Take It Back Now, Y'all
by Down By The River
Summary: A selection of stories I've written over the years. Mostly previously published on Tumblr.
1. Take It Back Now, Y'all

This started life as a drabble I wrote many years ago for Samcedes Week. I was thinking about some of my old stuff earlier and decided to upload it here. This is one of my favourites!

The funny thing about teen magazines, Mercedes thought as she tossed the one she'd been idly flicking through back onto the counter, was that no matter how often they speculated about who was dating whom on the _Tell It To Bennett_ set, they never seemed to get it right.

Sam Evans' face smiled out at her from the cover, his image all perfect blond hair, straight white teeth and All-American good looks. He looked every inch the teen heart throb; pined over by thousands of girls across the world, his likeness gracing hundreds of bedroom walls and countless magazine covers… and Mercedes had it on good authority that he hated it.

That hadn't taken her long to figure out once Mercedes had started working with Sam on _Tell It To Bennett._ The show had blown up almost overnight, and as the central character, Bennett, (the teenage bad boy with a heart of gold secretly moonlighting as an advice columnist) Sam had suddenly found himself thrust into a limelight he hadn't particularly wanted.

Mercedes caught Sam's eye in the mirror as the make up artist for the day's shoot touched up her face. Sam was being shown various outfits on a railing shoved against the back wall, but he looked like he'd rather do the whole thing in the plain white t-shirt and denim combination that he usually lived in. The shoot was actually a rare day for them both, not because Sam wasn't used to them, but because most of the time the cast didn't get to do photoshoots together. Usually it was just Sam and Quinn, the beautiful blonde girl who played Susie, Sam's love interest on the show. The media _loved_ Quinn and Sam, you couldn't open a magazine without seeing pictures of them or reading speculation that the two of them were dating in real life.

Girls wanted to date Sam and _be_ Quinn - it was just how things were - and the studio lapped it up, milking every column inch and question mark for all it was worth in an attempt to drive the show into higher ratings.

That was another reason Sam hated being a heartthrob. He'd told her once that he hated the idea of the public or his employers dictating his private life, and for a while Mercedes had wondered if maybe Sam was gay like her friend, and current teen icon, Kurt.

The hordes of screaming girls that followed Kurt around on a daily basis either didn't realise that he was gay, or they didn't care. They all proudly carried banners or wore t-shirts announcing that they were going to marry him someday anyway.

After catching a drunk Sam with his tongue down the throat of equally drunk guest star, Sugar Motta, during the first season wrap party for _Bennett_ , Mercedes was fairly certain that Sam _wasn't_ gay.

That was confirmedwhile she and Sam had been going over lines in his trailer one night during filming for the second season of _Bennett_. It'd been late, and they'd both been tired from a long day of shooting, not to mention that Sam had had a photoshoot with Quinn that morning that had left him in something of a mood.

Most people tended to leave Sam alone when he was like that, but Mercedes was generally considered to be the exception to the rule. For some reason, the two of them had struck up an unlikely friendship over the course of _Bennett_ 's first year, and the two of them were mostly inseparable whenever they were on set together. Sam called her his best friend, and there was an unspoken understanding amongst the rest of the cast and crew that if Sam was in one of his sullen moods the only person who could get him out of it was Mercedes.

The pair of them were taking a break from the line-learning, and Sam had been venting about the shoot and interview that had taken place that morning.

'It just pisses me off that they never actually _ask_ me who I'm interested in.' Sam had said after a while, his head in Mercedes' lap as she stroked one hand through his hair and flipped through the pages of her script with the other.

Mercedes had laughed and moved her hand away to highlight a section before returning it to his head again.

'I thought _all_ they asked you about was who you're dating.'

Sam sighed and tilted his head up to look at Mercedes' face. Her forehead was wrinkled in concentration and she was thoughtfully chewing her lower lip as she pored over her script.

'They ask me which of the girls on the set I would date.' he began, 'Quinn, Rachel, Santana or Brittany.' his jaw tightened in annoyance. 'Never Tina, and never you. It's insulting.'

Mercedes paused what she was doing to smile down at Sam, cradling his head in her hand as she rocked forward to look into his face with his head still in her lap.

'Aw, Baby, I didn't know you cared!'

She passed it off with a laugh and went back to her script, while Sam tried to ignore the way his stomach had flipped when she'd called him 'Baby' and leaned into him like that.

'But what if it _is_ one of you girls I'm interested in?' Sam asked, sitting up. 'I mean, it's like everyone's trying to tell me that you're not an option.'

He caught Mercedes' eyes and looked away quickly, embarrassment colouring his cheeks and ears red at his slip. 'I mean, um, you and Tina.' he cleared his throat, 'that you and _Tina_ aren't an option.'

Mercedes shrugged, apparently having missed the slip that had seemed so glaring to Sam.

'Well, we're kinda not.' she allowed. 'Not yet anyway.' she shrugged again. 'It's only 1990, Sam. People still have a lot of prejudices towards people of colour. Besides, I'm pretty sure Tina has a thing going with Mike Chang from _Verity North: Demon Hunter._ '

Sam sighed and flipped over onto his stomach, his chin resting on Mercedes' thigh as he watched her fiddle with the pages of her script. She only had about twelve short lines in the latest one - Sam had counted. It wasn't really fair, because as far as he was concerned Mercedes was awesome and deserved far more than to be treated like a glorified extra while everyone else talked around her.

Sam sighed. At least she got more lines than poor Tina; that girl was basically mute.

'Yeah, I know.' Sam nodded, causing his head to bob against the soft flesh of Mercedes' thigh. 'It just _sucks._ '

Mercedes laughed and ruffled his hair before dropping a hand to pinch his cheek lightly. 'You don't have to tell _me_ twice.' she smiled kindly at him before tossing down her highlighter pen to fix Sam with a serious look. He was worried until she affected an interviewer voice and pretended to point a fake microphone at him.

'We're joined today by Sam Evans - teen hearthrob and star of hit TV show _Tell It To Bennett._ Now, how about you tell it to _us_ , Sam… Who's your idea of a dream date?'

She pointed her fist at Sam and he grinned, scooting to sit up properly so he could talk into her make-believe microphone.

'Well…' he began seriously, his eyes dancing with amusement as they locked with Mercedes'. 'She'd have to be funny.' he started, 'I love a girl that can make me laugh. And fun to hang out with - I have to feel like I can be myself around her.' Sam licked his lips and leaned in closer to the fake microphone so his breath tickled at Mercedes' skin.

'And I find short girls very attractive, so that would be nice, and I _love_ curly hair.'

Sam lifted a hand to finger the shoulder-length, natural curls held off Mercedes' face by a huge funky-patterned bow.

'And I really like brown eyes.' Sam said, leaning a little closer as he looked into Mercedes' rich, mahogany coloured ones. 'And that little snort that comes out when she laughs really hard.' The fake microphone was forgotten as Sam's voice lowered and he edged ever closer to Mercedes, who seemed to have forgotten that she was supposed to be an interviewer and _not_ looking back at him like that.

'And her soft, brown skin.' Sam ran a finger down Mercedes' cheek. She shivered against his touch as he leaned in to close the final distance between them, tilting her face up to meet his as Sam pressed a soft, sweet kiss to Mercedes' plump lips.

' _Oh.'_ she sighed quietly when Sam had pulled away, her eyes glazed.

'Yeah.' Sam had said softly, his breathing coming out a little shaky. 'Now you know why I hate those questions so much.'

That had been three years ago now, and the show was currently entering into its fifth season. Mercedes and Sam had been quietly seeing each other ever since that night in the trailer, but the media still insisted on linking him with everyone, and _anyone,_ but her.

'Kids, Kids!' Zach Garrity, one of the _Tell It To Bennett_ producers entered the room with his usual hurried air and ushered them all into the centre of the room with an arm motion like a mother hen gathering her flock.

'Little ones,' Zach began with an air of gravitas as he surveyed each of their faces in turn. 'I have some sad news.'

The cast members all braced themselves, Mercedes' eyes meeting Quinn's in the crowd as they exchange a worried look at Zach's tone.

'I'm afraid the studio has decided that season five of _Bennett_ will be its last.' Zach finished, hanging his head at the news. 'Now I _know_ you're all going to be disappointed, but think of it this way: surely it's better for us to go out on a high note instead of… darn it, what was that phrase I heard the other day…?'

Zach snapped his fingers together as it came back to him. 'Jumping the shark, that's right! We don't want to jump the shark, so this is really a blessing in disguise. Ok, guys? I don't want you to be sad.'

Zach stopped talking and looked up to take in the faces of the young people who formed the core cast of the popular show. Strangely, none of them looked all that bothered.

Rachel was already getting excited because the show's cancellation meant she could finally try her hand at Broadway, and it was no secret that Artie had had his eye on a pop career for a while. Quinn had been thinking about going to college, and both Santana and Brittany had been talking seriously about getting away from the limelight. Santana in particular had been getting bitchier, and both Mercedes and Sam had independently tried to talk to the young woman about her ever increasing dependence on alcohol to get her through the day.

Brittany on the other hand, was quite content to retire at twenty-one and open an animal shelter, she'd always seemed rather indifferent to the spotlight, although her character was relatively popular. Luckily, Tina had missed out on the madness by getting out a year earlier to star in a film about a talking robot. The movie had done exceptionally well at the box office and it was becoming increasingly obvious to everyone just how wasted the young woman had been on the show.

Mercedes' eyes flicked involuntarily over to Sam to see how he was taking the news, and she found that his eyes were already trained on her, watching from across the room where he was perched on the armrest of an overstuffed couch.

She could already guess what he was thinking; no more _Bennett_ = no more hiding, and as soon as Zach had dismissed them all to go back to prepping for the shoot Sam had grabbed Mercedes' hand and led her out to a private area out the back of the lot.

'I want to come clean.'

Mercedes sighed and let him wrap his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

'How did I know that that's what you would say?' she asked him, tipping her head to the side as she slid her hands up his chest and draped them loosely around his neck.

'Because,' Sam said, punctuating each phrase with a kiss, 'you know… that I want… to tell… the _world…_ how wonderful… you are… and how much… I love you.' Sam pulled away from her, their lips making a soft pop as they disconnected and a wide smile stretched across his lips as his eyes caught and held with hers.

'After the season wraps there'll be no need for us to keep hiding.' he studied her face intently, his expression turning serious as he tried to figure out how his girlfriend felt about all this. 'I mean… unless…Do you not _want_ to…'

Mercedes pressed a finger to Sam's lips before he could finish and then quickly chased it with her lips as she attempted to kiss his doubts away.

'I'm all for telling people.' she explained after she'd pulled breathlessly away from him. 'But I'm not sure we should just suddenly announce that we've been dating for the past three years.'

Sam groaned and dropped his head back against the exposed brick wall, his hands still on Mercedes' hips as he propped one foot against the stone.

'But it's the _truth.'_ he protested, 'why can't we just tell people the truth?'

'Because they'll feel lied to,' Mercedes explained, dropping a kiss first to Sam's nose and then to both his closed eyelids. 'They'll feel betrayed, and they'll start to resent you and blame me for it .'

Sam sighed, both in response to her kisses and her words. He knew she was right, but he still hated that he had to regularly stop himself from telling everybody how in love he was with the woman in front of him.

'I promise, after shooting ends we can go public.' Mercedes assured him, sliding her hand into his as she peeled herself out of his embrace. 'Until then, business as usual.'

Sam looked momentarily downcast as he tightened his fingers around Mercedes' small hand and allowed her to drag him back in to the photoshoot. The photographer, a guy in an orange silk shirt and white dress pants, was already trying to set the others up in the space. Sam groaned inwardly when he overheard the man saying to Quinn "and you'll have your arms around Sam…"

Sam spared another, final, look at his _actual_ girlfriend before squaring his shoulders and brushing his blond curtains out of his eyes. Then he plastered a jovial smile on his face and went to go pretend to be in love with Quinn.

Really, if there was one thing Mercedes Jones should have suspected of Sam Evans, it was that he would find the biggest stage he could to declare his love for her, and then use it.

She and the rest of the _Tell It To Bennett_ cast were currently sitting in the audience at the Emmy's waiting to hear if they'd won any of the five awards they were up for. One of them, the one for Best Performance by a Leading Male in a Comedy, was just about to be announced, and Mercedes held Sam's hand discreetly under the table as they waited to see if he'd won. They'd wrapped on shooting _Bennett_ 's final season just three days earlier, but they'd been so preoccupied with awards season and the wrap party that Mercedes hadn't spared much extra thought to her promise to Sam.

She should have known that he would have, though.

When Phylicia Rashad opened the small, gold envelope and called out Sam's name, Mercedes let out a delighted squeal and wrapped her arms around him. She felt Sam give her a fortifying squeeze before he leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek, breaking away from her to do the same with Quinn and Rachel to cover the action.

Sam looked shocked as he made his way to the stage, and she knew that he had actually been really overwhelmed to even have been nominated for the award. He'd told Mercedes as much the night before, while they'd been lying in bed together, when Sam had confessed that he hadn't even written a speech because he just couldn't see himself winning and needing one.

The teen awards were nice, but to win at the Emmy's would be a dream come true for Sam. Now that _Bennett_ was done he wanted to branch out into more legit acting roles; movies and such, and he'd already had a few offers from interested parties. Sam had speculated to her that maybe his Emmy nomination was a sign of good things to come, and as Mercedes watched him make his way up to the stage she couldn't help but feel an overwhelming swell of pride at what he'd accomplished.

Beside her, Quinn wrapped her arms around her friend as if sensing her emotional state. Mercedes was grateful for the support the blonde provided, especially when the tears began to well up in her eyes. Contrary to the rumours of in-fighting amongst the women of _Bennett_ , Quinn and Mercedes had actually managed to forge a strong friendship during the course of the show, and both considered the other to be one of the few people in the world they really could trust with anything.

The two of them watched, hand in hand, as Sam made his way to the podium, kissed Phylicia on the cheek and accepted his award. Once the applause had died down he took a deep breath and started his speech.

'Oh my God.' Sam picked up the little statue in his hands and tested its weight, staring down at the thing like he couldn't quite believe it was his.

'Wow.' he let out a little endearing laugh into the microphone before taking a deep breath and launching into his speech proper.

'Well, um, first and foremost, I'd like to thank the amazing cast and crew of _Tell It To Bennett_ , who have just made these past five years an incredible experience that I'll never forget. Um, to the wonderful producers, Zach, Brian and Dan, you guys…' Sam blew out a breath and shook his head incredulously before shaking the trophy in the direction the producers were sitting in.

'Thank you guys so much for taking a chance on a small-town kid from Tennessee, I really cannot thank you enough, you guys are the best. Uh…to the incredible writers, Michael, Sean, Christopher… thank you for giving us such wonderful stories to tell week after week, I know I'm not the only one who appreciates it. Uh…' Sam let out another deep breath and took a second to get his bearings before speaking again. 'To my gorgeous family; my parents, my little brother and sister who are probably staying up well past their bedtime to watch this.'

There were a few titters of laughter from the audience as Sam broke away from the mic to give a small, self-deprecating laugh.

'To my agent, Sally at Shaw and Associates, the incredible fans who stuck with us for five seasons, and last, but by no means least, to my best friend and beautiful girlfriend, Mercedes Jones, who has kept me sane over the years, supported me through the highs and lows, and has generally been the most wonderful woman I've ever been lucky enough not to deserve. I don't know what I did to get you in my life, Beautiful, but I pray to God everyday that I keep doing it. I love you so much, Baby, and I couldn't have done this without you.'

Sam blew a kiss to the audience before raising the statue triumphantly over his head, pausing to offer a soft, 'thank you,' into the microphone before making his way offstage.

A buzz erupted around the room after his departure as the attendees turned to discuss this sudden revelation. Mercedes' tried to keep her face straight as multiple cameras were all of a sudden turned on her as they tried to get close up shots of her reaction. Honestly, Mercedes wasn't entirely sure what her reaction _was._ Sam's speech had been so heartbreakingly beautiful, and she couldn't believe the lovely things he'd said about her. But on the other hand, he had said those lovely things about _her,_ in front of **_everyone._**

'You dark horse, you!' Artie had congratulated when Sam eventually made his way back to their table. He'd leaned over slightly to slap Sam's hand in appreciation, and Sam had grinned happily back, slipping his arm openly around the back of Mercedes' chair as he dropped into the seat next to her.

'Sorry that was so public.' he apologised, leaning into close so he could whisper quietly into Mercedes' ear. 'I swear, I didn't plan for it all to come out like that, but once I got up there it all just sorta tumbled on out.'

Mercedes smiled and lifted a hand to stroke his cheek, hesitating briefly before she remembered that, yes, she actually _could_ do that now.

'It was a beautiful speech, Sam.'

She caught his eyes with hers and held his gaze for a moment before leaning in to capture his lips with hers. It wasn't anything over the top or flashy: It was just a sweet kiss shared by two people who had loved each other for a long time. They barely registered the flashbulbs going off, but the next day the moment was gracing the cover of almost every newspaper and magazine as the revelation that Sam and Mercedes were a couple hit.

It didn't take long for the teen magazines to start piecing together the clues that Sam had been dropping in his previous interviews. Eventually even _they_ were forced to admit that maybe Sam _hadn't_ been talking about that one episode of _Bennett_ where Rachel got a perm when he mentioned his preference for curly-haired brunettes. Then they were declaring that they'd suspected the secret romance all along, and just like that, Mercedes was a hot commodity.

She was being offered magazine covers and interviews left right and centre. Even _Oprah_ had called, wanting to put Mercedes and Sam at the centre of an episode about interracial dating in the media, but Mercedes had turned them all down.

Sam had asked her why over dinner one night (at an actual restaurant!) and she'd shrugged and said that she didn't want to be known as 'Sam Evans' girlfriend'. Mercedes had always had her own career and aspirations, and she wasn't prepared to use her relationship with Sam to achieve them, nor would she give them up _for_ him, although she knew Sam would never ask her to.

The blond had just grinned and squeezed her hand tighter when she'd said that, and then leaned across the table to kiss her, for once not caring who saw them.

Although both of them revelled in no longer having to hide their relationship, after a while the media intrusion got a little bit too much for them both. Sam was forced to admit that as much as he loved people knowing he was with Mercedes, he didn't like people asking for details about their relationship, and neither did she. After the third instance of a pushy reporter asking for details, Mercedes and Sam had agreed that, even though they were done hiding their relationship, they were done talking about it publicly too.

That was why the couple would only smile politely and say 'no comment' when asked about the very shiny diamond ring that appeared on Mercedes' finger a few months later. It was also why Sam didn't make a fuss of the silver band he was sporting on his left hand a year after the Emmy's while doing press for his first feature-length movie, and when Oprah asked about the inspiration behind her first hit album, Mercedes had no qualms about casually mentioning her husband, Sam.

The thing was, even though the media tried desperately to paint scandal and betrayal into the blanks of Sam and Mercedes' marriage, they always managed to miss the glaringly obvious: that the two of them were _happy._

As far as Sam and Mercedes were concerned, the media could continue to tell their made-up stories and lies to whoever cared to listen, but it _wouldn't_ be them.

After all, _Bennett_ didn't have to listen to that stuff anymore.


	2. Play It Again, Sam

Getting tangled up with dames is probably a bad idea when trouble's got your dance card tied up, but when the dame is Miss Mercedes Jones... Well, a man might just have to make an exception.

* * *

 _She was the kind of woman that could make a grown man forget he didn't like trouble._

I remember the first time I laid eyes on her like it was yesterday. I'd been on the trail of a guy by the name of Noah Puckerman, a lowlife who'd skipped town the week before. I doubt anyone much would have missed Puckerman on his own, but the guy had somehow managed to get his hands on something that was very valuable to my employer, and I'd been hired to get it back.

Almost everybody in town had heard of Finn Hudson, he was the owner of a number of casinos and bars, including Hudson's, and I'd been surprised to have the man himself pay me a visit at Evans Private Detective Agency earlier that week. He'd been ranting and raving about Puckerman's theft, and by the time he'd walked out of my office I'd been hired to track the guy down and get the missing items returned.

I'd followed the trail to a dive joint called Buzz Hudson's, it was one of Finn's less reputable bars just off the North end of Porter Street, and the word on the street was that Puckerman had his eye on one of the singers that worked there. If I was lucky, the dame would remember him. If I was luckier she'd tell me about it.

From my experience, a guy desperate to impress a gal doesn't always watch his mouth as closely as he should, and I was hoping that Puckerman had inadvertently let something slip that could lead me to Hudson's missing loot.

I got to _Hudson's_ a little after seven, but the place was already heaving with the kinds of lowlifes and degenerates your mama always warned you about. I'd managed to muscle my way onto a table that opened up near the stage, and I had my fingers crossed that seeing this dame in action would help me get a read on her. Mercedes Jones was the doll I was waiting for, and tuning in to the buzz around my table I gathered that I wasn't the only one. The dame was popular. I had my own opinions as to why.

When the lights dimmed, a guy with a face like a brick and a voice aged by whisky and cigar smoke came on stage to announce that Miss Jones was up next. I sat up straighter in my chair and ordered a scotch on the rocks from the little waitress who came over when I called.

She'd just brought me my drink when a solitary spotlight cut through the buzz that had started up at Miss Jones' name, and an expectant hush descended on the club. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, but the sound that came through the silence was way better than that. It was sweet and sultry, and all of a sudden I understood why the place was so damn packed. I could tell that even before I clapped eyes on Miss Jones, her voice was enough.

But it wasn't all, _oh boy, it_ wasn't _all_.

 _You had plenty money 1922._

A leg appeared through the curtain, and like a slow reveal Miss Mercedes Jones stepped onto the stage to a deep, sexy bass line that seemed to follow the sweep of her hips as the rest of her followed through onto the stage.

I don't know exactly what I was expecting from this dame, but what I got wasn't it.

Long, curvy legs showed through the slit in her floor length, sparkling silver gown that showed off every single one of the curves that were driving lesser men in the club to distraction. Her sleek, dark hair tumbled over one shoulder and her heavy lashes fluttered and cast deep shadows under the spotlight. She moved real smooth, like oil, fluid and easy, and I couldn't help but stare as her as her hips sashayed sensuously from side to side as she walked.

There was no mistake about it, Miss Jones was a knockout. And those _pipes!_

 _You let other women make a fool of you_

 _Why don't you do right?_

 _Like some other men do?_

Holy smokes.

I guess I went into something of a daze when she turned around and headed over to the other side of the stage, 'cause once the rush of blood in my ears had quieted down she was already singing the second verse.

 _You sitting down wondering what it's all about_

 _If you ain't got money then they'll_

 _Put you out._

 _Why don't you do right?_

Miss Jones worked the room like a masseuse, teasing the other patrons of the club flirtatiously, but always reeling it in before the men could get too into it. She was a master of seduction, and it didn't take long for me to see how Puckerman had wound up smitten with her.

I couldn't seem to peel my eyes away from that full red mouth of hers as she sang into the mic in her hand, and as she slunk over to one of the guys on a table next to mine I felt the pang of jealousy in my stomach, like a warning bell that I was headed for trouble. Miss Jones eased on over to the sap and slipped the hat from his head, pressing it to his chest as she gently pushed him back into his seat and sang directly to him.

 _If you had prepared twenty years ago_

 _You wouldn't be wand'rin' now from_

 _Door to door._

She sang the chorus again, and I felt my heart start to race in my chest as she swayed those glorious hips on over to me. I didn't know what she'd do, but again she surprised me when she hopped up onto my small table and reached for my tie, running the cheap fabric through her fingers like it was made of the finest silk.

 _Get out of here_

 _Get me some money, too…_

 _Why don't you do right?_

I licked my lips when she leaned into me, her breath ghosting cool across the newly dampened flesh. Those full lips that had me entranced were only inches away from mine and if I were bolder I could have just leaned forward and tasted her lipstick… but she had me frozen to the spot, completely entranced by the sound of her voice and the fact that she was singing only to me.

 _Like some other men_

She leaned in even closer, her lips hovering scant centimetres from mine, and I was just thinking about puckering up and saying 'to hell with it' when she pursed her lips and sang what I swear was the sexiest note ever to grace the ears of mankind.

 _Do…._

…And just like that it was over. Miss Jones was slinking her way backstage again and the club around me had exploded into rapturous applause. Maybe I would have stood and clapped too if I wasn't still numb from having the dame so close to me.

Later that same night I made my way to the backstage area, trying to convince myself I'd be able to hold it together alone with Miss Jones even as I tried to convince the bouncer to let me through to see her.

'The name's Sam Evans.' I explained, fishing through my pockets for a business card. 'I'm a Private Eye. Mr. Hudson hired me to look into a case for him.'

The man - a big, beefcake of a guy who towered over my 6'1 - barely glanced at my card before raising both his heavy brows at me.

'You know, we get a lotta stories from guys hoping to get backstage to see Miss Jones.' he told me, his voice deep and slow, 'But that's the first time I've heard that one.'

'That's cause it ain't a story.' I told him, casually leaning against the wall and folding my arms across my chest. 'You can call Mr. Hudson and ask him if you don't believe me.'

I acted as cool as I could manage as the Giant and me fell into a kind of stare off. After a few minutes he shrugged and stepped aside to let me through.

'You got ten minutes.' he told me, and I could feel his eyes following me as I made my way down the hall.

'I hear _anything_ about you hurting Miss. Jones I _will_ delight in breaking every bone in your body.' he called out when I was about halfway down the hall, the sadistic glint in his eye telling me he was serious. I gulped and nodded as I reached Miss. Jones' dressing room, and I ain't too proud to say that my hand was shaking a little bit as I knocked on the door.

She called for me to come in without asking who I was first, and as I pushed open the door I found myself wondering if she knew how dangerous that could be.

Her dressing room was small, as you'd expect from a place like _Hudson's_ , but it was clean and cosy. Miss Jones was sitting at her dressing table, but she stood when she saw me. Her eyes widening just a bit as I stepped through the doorway.

'Oh, I wasn't expecting…'

She'd changed out of the dress into a drab two piece suit that didn't quite manage to hide how gorgeous her body was, although it sure as hell looked like it was trying. Her hair was still down in waves that curled gently over her shoulders and I found myself wondering if it felt as soft as it looked.

'I'm Sam Evans.' I told her, holding my hand out for her to shake as she blinked at me in surprise. 'I'm a Private Investigator.'

She slipped her hand into mine and shook it with a surprisingly firm handshake, her fingers small and smooth against my calloused palm.

'Mercedes Jones.'

I nodded as she pulled her hand away and resumed her seat in front of the dressing mirror.

'You mind if I ask you a few questions, Miss Jones?'

She gave herself the once over in the mirror before turning around to face me again.

'Knock yourself out, Detective.' she smiled warmly at me and I caught a glint of something in her eye before she added, 'But I'm not promising I'll answer.'

I smiled back at her. The girl had spunk, and I liked that.

'That's fair.'

I leaned against the opposite wall from her and unbuttoned my suit jacket.

'So, is Mercedes Jones your real name?'

She raised an eyebrow at me but answered the question.

'Yes.'

'You from Chicago?'

'No, Ohio.'

I nodded again. Of course, these were just the warm up questions before I asked her what I really wanted to know, but I couldn't deny that I was more than a little interested in her answers.

'Have you been working here long?'

She thought for a minute, her eyes on the ceiling as she mentally calculated.

'About a year.'

Hmm… not as long as most lounge singers, that meant the beautiful Miss. Jones was still fairly new to this gig. I wondered what had made her choose this life - or if maybe the life had chosen her.

'Do you have a boyfriend?' I asked her. 'Husband?'

I wondered if she'd mention Puckerman.

She tipped her head towards me and pulled a face like she thought I was crazy.

'What do _you_ think?'

I shrugged and watched her coolly. It hadn't escaped my notice that she didn't answer my question, but whether that was because she had a secret lover or because I was a guy who'd just watched her sing, I couldn't tell.

'I think there are a guys out there who might get a kick out of their girl doing this kind of work.' I told her honestly. 'You know a guy called Noah Puckerman?'

She tipped her head quizzically and studied me without answering my question.

'You sure do ask a lot of questions, Mr. Evans.'

I dropped my foot from where I'd propped it against the wall and stood up straighter.

'Yeah, well. It's in the job description to ruffle feathers.'

'And if you ruffle the wrong ones?'

I shrugged again.

'It's a job hazard.'

She watched me for a moment, big brown eyes skimming over my body as she seemed to take a measure of my character. Her eyes lingered on my face and I knew she was seeing the small scar on my chin and the line through my eyebrow from a cut that never quite healed right.

'Sounds lousy.'

I let my eyes take in her lush, full lips, big doe eyes and lashes that seemed to extend for days. Even dressed in regular clothes this dame was a dime, and she had a set of pipes that would make even the greatest man weep: which begged the question, what the hell was a dame like that doing in a joint like Buzz Hudson's?

'About as lousy as singing in a place like this looks.'

I guess it was the wrong thing to say, because she closed off faster than a poker player with a bad hand. Jones hooked one shapely leg over the other and I couldn't stop my eyes from lingering on the flash of skin. I didn't realise I was licking my lips until I felt the scratch of a tongue that suddenly felt like sandpaper. The sensation forced me back to my senses and I reluctantly forced myself to drag my eyes away from Miss Jones' glorious gams. When I looked up again I caught her eye, and I realised that she'd been watching me.

'I know what working in a place like this looks like, Mr. Evans.' she said with a slight shake of her head. 'Believe me, my mama tells me every day…'

The regret showed momentarily on her face before she squared her shoulders and sat up a little straighter. My eyes drifted back down to her legs again - she really did have great gams- and I found myself taking the scenic route to visit some of her other considerable assets on my way back up to her face. She waited patiently for me to finish my visual tour before she spoke again.

'Looks can be deceiving, Mr. Evans. '

 _Could they now?_ I quirked an eyebrow at her and propped a cigarette between my lips. Smoking was a bad habit, I knew, but letting myself get distracted by Miss Jones would be worse.

'So can dames.'

I heard her let out a short laugh as I fished in my pocket for a match to light my smoke.

'Yeah, well. We learned from the best.'

Her voice sounded bitter, and as I looked up I caught a look in her eye that made my fingers still on the book of matches in my hand. Whatever guy had been in her life before, he'd sure done a number on her.

'There's an argument for it.'

Something like surprise flickered behind the her eyes at my words, but she lowered those thick lashes of hers for a moment and it was gone by the time she looked up again.

'You don't mind if I…' I gestured towards her with my unlit cigarette as an afterthought and she just waved a dismissive hand for me to continue.

'You smoke?'

The corner of her red lips quirked up in what could have been a smile if she'd let it get that far, but it quickly disappeared as she shook her head at me.

'No, but you go ahead, Detective.'

I bobbed my head at her in gratitude before breaking off a match from the book and striking it against my shoe before I brought the flame up to light my smoke. I took a deep breath and allowed myself the satisfaction of watching the tip of my cigarette glow orange and flare into life. I felt a calm come over me as I let the smoke curl through my lungs, and I turned my face away from her to blow out the smoke in a long, steady stream before I shook out the match and tossed it into the trash. Feeling infinitely calmer I turned back to Miss Jones, ready to get down to the deeper questions.

'So, you don't know Noah Puckerman?' I asked delicately, watching for any hint of recognition at the mention of Puckerman's name.

Mercedes shrugged and leaned back against the desk as I took another hit from my cigarette.

'I know _of_ him.' She corrected, 'but I don't know him well.'

That made me raise an eyebrow - Puckerman was a well-known ladies man, and there was no way a woman like Mercedes Jones would have escaped his attention.

'Oh, he tried.' she told me, and I was surprised to find I'd said the words aloud, I reminded myself again that this was a gal I'd have to watch myself around.

'I wasn't interested.'

Both my eyebrows went up that time. From what I understood, Puckerman could be quite the charmer, in fact, most of the people I'd already interviewed had told me that Puckerman always got the girl he was going for. I wasn't sure if Miss Jones was the exception, or just a really good liar.

'You weren't, huh?'

She shook her head at me slowly, her eyes steady on mine, and I felt my demand for more of an answer die on my lips.

I knew I was on dangerous territory with this woman, but I also knew that even with all of that I was attracted to her. _Really_ attracted. I wanted to know _why_ she wasn't interested in Puckerman, and not knowing was eating away at me, but I'd be damned if I lowered myself to ask her any more directly.

'You happen to know who he was seeing?'

I didn't bother to ask "if" Puck was seeing anyone, with guys like Puckerman it was _always_ a case of who.

I knew she was studying me, and I tried to play it cool, hoping to ease her into telling me what I wanted to know. Unfortunately, when her soft red lips parted it wasn't to tell me everything she knew about Puckerman's love life. It wasn't even for my second choice, (which would be because I was kissing her senseless.)

Instead, when she spoke she countered my question with one of her own.

'Why so interested, Mr. Evans?'

I thought for a minute, busying myself with flicking the ash from my cigarette into an empty ashtray on a nearby table as my mind whirred, trying to figure out how to play this. I crossed the room and leaned against the desk next to Miss Jones to buy myself some more time. I wondered if she might flinch at how close I was, but she just took it in stride. I guess she was used to that kind of thing working at a place like _Hudson's._

I spent a moment weighing up the pros and cons of letting Miss Jones in on the truth. Truth was, I didn't know her from Adam, but I consider myself to be a pretty good judge of character and, as I looked down into her sweet face, I noticed how innocent her eyes were. That in itself was a small miracle, considering she worked at a dive like this, and part of me wanted to protect her from the dirty deeds that men do, but then I figured that she was probably a whole lot tougher than she looked, and besides, my gut was telling me she was ok.

At least, I hoped it was my gut.

 _'_ 'Apparently, Puckerman took off with a whole lot of money that didn't belong to him.' I told her finally. I'd gotten a little lost in the velvet softness of her big, brown eyes, and I sent up a silent prayer that I wasn't about to make a fatal mistake.

'My employer was hoping I could shed some light on its location.'

Disbelief danced across her face, and I watched her thick lashes lower as she narrowed her eyes in thought. I was starting to wonder if maybe I'd been wrong about her when she surprised me with another question.

'Who's your employer?'

I took a deep breath and tried to figure out where to go from here. I'd made my own mess by telling the dame what was what, but telling her why I was looking for Puckerman was one thing, telling her who was footing the bill was something else. I promise confidentiality as far as my business is concerned, and even a face as pretty as Miss Jones' wasn't going to get me to break that particular promise, which meant…

'It was Finn Hudson, wasn't it?'

I looked up from the stub of my cigarette with a start. There was no way she would have known that. _How_ had she known that? I went over everything I'd said to Miss Jones since I'd come in, but I couldn't see how she could have gotten that kind of intel from anything I'd said. I felt myself eyeing the woman next to me warily. This gal had the face of an angel, but for all I knew she was a snake in the grass. I never usually second guess my gut, but this woman had me confused as to which way was up.

Miss. Jones sighed and uncrossed her legs to lean in closer to me, and I felt the sweat begin to bead at the back of my neck even as she smiled sympathetically at me. I hear crocodiles smile before they attack, too.

'You don't have to tell me.' She said carefully, her eyes running over my body. 'I understand if you have some kind of client privacy clause or whatever, and the look on your face just told me everything I needed to know anyway.'

The cold sweat spread down my spine and I felt my throat go dry. She looked at me sidelong under her lashes and smirked. 'You might want to work on that, Detective.'

I could already feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, so I knew that she was right. I cursed my fair skin under my breath and wondered how Miss. Jones was tangled in this case.

I didn't usually have the problem of being so obvious with the things I'm thinking - I wouldn't have gotten very far in this business if I did - but something about Mercedes Jones seemed to be playing havoc with my defences, and I wasn't sure I liked it.

'Let me ask you something,' Mercedes Jones went on, her eyes bright as she studied me. 'Did Hudson ever actually _say_ it was money that Puck took? Specifically, I mean?'

She blinked expectantly up at me. 'You don't have to say anything, just nod if he did.'

That was when it occurred to me that maybe I'd misjudged Miss Jones - not once, but twice. I wasn't sure of the ethics of the particular arrangement she was proposing, but as I mentally went over that first meeting with Finn Hudson I found myself shaking my head anyway.

Hudson had paced around my office like a caged animal, all long limbs and righteous indignation, and then he'd promised me a lot of money for the safe return of the 'important property' Puckerman supposedly stole. That had been enough to stop me from asking too many questions. Sometimes people hired me because they couldn't get the police involved, and Hudson had put a lot of zeroes on the end of my cheque to ensure that I didn't think too hard about the legalities of what I was sent out to find. Maybe I should've.

To my surprise, Jones let out a short laugh, her small hand quickly coming up to stifle the laugh that had escaped without warning as she took in my face.

'It wasn't money Noah stole, Mr. Evans.' she informed me, almost losing my focus again when she bit her lip to calm down.

I frowned in confusion at her words and lifted a hand to loosen my tie. It suddenly felt like an inferno in that goddamned room.

'Oh yeah?' I asked her, trying to keep my voice casual and light. I had no idea where she was going with all this, but I was man enough to admit that it wasn't somewhere I'd been before.

'Then what was it?'

'You tell me, Detective.' Miss Jones asked me pointedly, and there was suddenly no doubt in my mind that I wasn't fooling her with my casual act. 'What does it usually boil down to in your line of business?'

I didn't get why the dame was being so cryptic until suddenly it hit me like a brick wall that I should have seen coming from miles away. I slumped against the table at the realisation Jones had brought me to and shook my head, the pieces fitting together in my brain the way they should have all along.

'You're _kidding_ me.' I groaned, my eyes wide. 'You mean to say that this is all over a _dame_?'

Beside me, I was surprised when Miss Jones bristled in her chair and shifted to face me, her expression fierce.

'I think you'll find that she ain't just _any_ dame, Mr. Evans.' she told me, and I found myself sitting straighter against the table. 'It's Hudson's girl, Quinn Fabray.'

I couldn't help but let out a long, low whistle. Every guy in town knew of Miss Fabray - she was a gorgeous blonde former actress who, it was rumoured, had been dating Hudson for the past four years. The couple liked to lay low, but their relationship was something of an open secret in certain circles in Chicago. Even so, most guys had tried their luck with Fabray at some point or another, myself included before someone filled me in. Fabray would always turn them down.

'So this is a kidnapping case?' I said doubtfully as I turned the information over and over in my head, but Miss Jones just shook her head at me. I got the feeling that if Miss Jones were on the case, it would have been solved in half the time I'd taken to do it, but it wasn't like I was going to tell her that.

'I doubt it.' She thought for a moment longer, one hand propped under her chin as she considered the problem laid out before her. 'Quinn's not the type to follow, if you get my meaning, Detective - She leads.'

I caught on to what she was saying and whistled again. Apparently Puckerman had been the lucky sucker who'd finally managed to get a 'yes' out of the so-called _Snow Queen of Chicago_. I shook my head again, _Sonofagun_.

'Which means that Hudson…' I began and Miss Jones finished my sentence

'…wants you to get his girl back.' She shrugged prettily, and the action drew my attention momentarily to her generous cleavage before she spoke again. 'That would be my guess. Yeah.' She shot me a wide smile. 'but then, _you're_ the detective.'

I blinked at her for a moment in awe. If she was right… _if she was right…_

Lord, what a dame.

I shut my mouth with a snap and stood carefully to make my way across the room, doing my jacket up as I went. I grabbed my hat from where I'd left it by the door, but didn't put it on straight away. I wasn't sure what to say to Miss Jones, and I lingered awkwardly in the doorway after I'd turned to face her as I tried to figure it out. The dame had potentially solved my case for me, but did I want to tell her that?

'I…' I opened my mouth to speak, and then thought better of it, changing what I was going to say at the last minute. 'I'll be seeing you Miss Jones.'

I turned the doorknob under my hand and pulled the door open a crack, but what I'd said wasn't sitting right with me. The gal deserved more of an acknowledgement than that.

I fitted my hat back on my head for something to do and stepped through the doorway, but just before I closed it behind me I stuck my head back in and said, 'You were very helpful.' before I could talk myself out of it.

I spent the night tossing and turning in the summer heat of my apartment. I'd like to believe that it was just the heat that kept me awake, but it wasn't. Thoughts of the case kept turning round in my head, and on top of that I was haunted by the memory of Miss. Jones' heavenly voice and even better body. The dame had gotten under my skin, and I didn't have the first idea how to deal with it.

Two days later, I decided to pay my esteemed employer a visit. I wanted to know if Jones was barking up the right tree with her guess that it was Miss Fabray Hudson wanted me to go after. When I levelled the accusation at the casino owner's feet it didn't surprise me at all that he didn't even try to deny it.

'Quinn should be with me.' he told me, not even bothering to get up from his desk while he spoke to me. 'I paid for that woman's career,' he went on as he clearly warmed to his subject. 'She _owes_ me.'

He stood up then, and began to pace around his spacious office. The rent I paid on my place was pocket change to Hudson, and it showed. Even with his long strides it took him about three times longer to cross his spacious office than it did for him to cross my small one.

I didn't say anything, but I did raise an eyebrow. I was no stranger to the rumours that Hudson had bankrolled Quinn Fabray's success, but to hear it from the horse's mouth was a different matter.

'It was my understanding that Miss Fabray wasn't in the movies anymore.' I mentioned calmly as I fished a cigarette out of my pocket and popped it in my mouth. Hudson smoked cigars, otherwise I would have bummed one off him - hey, the guy could afford it- and the scent of the one he was puffing on now was thick and sickly in the air as he got more and more irate. I idly watched him pace as I leaned over and snagged the fancy cigarette lighter I'd watched him use earlier off his desk. I kept one eye on him as I held the flame up to my smoke and tossed the shiny, silver lighter back onto the desk again.

Hudson stopped pacing for a moment to fix me with a bewildered glare.

'What difference does _that_ make?'

I frowned and took the cigarette out from between my lips. 'Well, am I right in saying she was with you for four years? That's an awful long time.'

Finn's eyes narrowed and he took a menacing step towards me. 'Maybe you should remember who's paying your bill, Evans.'

I shrugged and propped the cigarette back in my mouth. 'Maybe you should have read the fine print on the contract you signed.'

Hudson reeled like I'd slapped him, and I could practically see the cogs whirring in his head as he tried to work out my meaning. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

A small smirk tugged at the corners of my lips but I forced it away, the last thing I needed was to make Hudson _more_ volatile.

'It means that _people_ aren't _property_ , Mr. Hudson.' I reminded him. 'The law's been pretty clear on that for a while now, which means that if Miss Fabray left willingly, then there's nothing I can do to get her back.'

Hudson took another step towards me, and I could tell that he was trying to use his height to intimidate me. Once upon a time i might have been succeptible to that kind of game, but not anymore. I could tell the cat was only getting like that because he knew I was right. Unbeknownst to everyone but myself and a select couple of people, I'd quietly located and paid a visit to Noah Puckerman and his famous new wife. The two of them were blissfully happy together, and I just wasn't the kind of guy to split up a happy home. As far as I could see, Miss Fabray had paid her dues to Finn Hudson. She deserved a little happiness after that.

'I'm a P.I.' I continued, 'Not a kidnapper. And I'm gonna be straight with ya, Hudson, I think Miss. Fabray already did her time.' I shrugged and blew out a nonchalant gust of smoke.

Hudson looked like he wanted to deck me, but he took a few deep breaths and reeled it in, his tightly clenched fists gradually releasing as he got himself together.

'Can you tell me where she is, at least?'

Hudson was breathing heavily through his nose as he looked down at me, but I wouldn't be swayed. The guy really should have read the fine print. I wasn't obligated to find Miss Fabray, but Hudson _was_ obligated to pay me my fee. In full.

'Are you sure that's a good idea?' I asked him carefully, studying the cigarette between my fingers. 'She's not going to want to come back, and _you_ put her in a very public position to cry foul if anything happens to Puckerman.' I paused as Hudson took this information in. 'And if you do anything to _her_ then the rest of the _city_ will cry foul.' I pointed out, guessing where his thoughts were taking him.

I shrugged and took another long drag.

'My advice is to find someone new.' I stuck my hand in my pocket and regarded the tall man in front of me. 'If you made a star once, you can do it again, right?'

Hudson was silent as he thought for a long moment. He took so damned long about it I wondered if maybe he'd fallen asleep with his eyes open, but finally he nodded slowly and made his way behind his desk again. I watched him scribble something on a piece of paper, and when he handed it to me I could see it was the cheque for my services.

'You're a lousy detective.' He told me as I took it from his hands. 'But you'd make a pretty good shrink.' he lifted a shoulder as if to say _some you lose,_ before settling back behind his desk. I waited in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, but when it became clear that Hudson was done with me I straightened and booked it out of there before he could change his mind about paying me.

Two months after that meeting, the cheque had been cashed, and I was still trying not to think about Mercedes Jones. I'd thought she'd leave my mind with the case, but she didn't. Her image haunted my every waking moment, and more often than not she'd invade my dreams with her soft curves and sharp wit too. By the two month mark I was at the end of my tether. Business had slowed down some and I'd sat twiddling my thumbs in my office for an entire afternoon before the evening had rolled around and I'd decided to go pay Miss Jones a visit at _Hudson's_. I figured that maybe I just needed to see her again to get her out of my system. That had worked for other men before, and if it didn't… then I had it on good authority that _Hudson's_ sold hard liquor.

The first thing I noticed when I entered _Hudson's_ was that the place wasn't nearly as packed as it had been that first night I'd attended. I didn't have to fight anyone for a table, and I even managed to get one right up next to the stage this time.

I ordered a club soda from the pretty waitress that came over to serve me, but the moment she disappeared I felt the tension run through me again. It was probably a fool's game to imagine that Jones would even remember me. I was just some poor sap of a gumshoe she'd spoken to for twenty minutes, but I couldn't help but hope that I'd played on her mind as much as she'd played on mine.

What can I say? I may be a schmuck, but I'm a romantic one.

When the lights dimmed I sat up straighter in my seat, but I knew something was wrong when the band started playing some kinda showtune instead of the sultry jazz I'd come expecting to hear. I didn't bother to keep the confusion and disappointment off my face as a small brunette with less than half of Miss. Jones' charisma stepped on stage and started singing.

I watched open mouthed for a minute until the waitress came with my drink, and then I beckoned her down to see if she knew what the heck had happened to Miss Jones.

'Mercy?' The woman repeated, her voice tinged with sadness. 'The boss let her go. He said Miss Berry here is gonna be the next big star.' The woman didn't look like she particularly believed that.

'You don't like Miss. Berry?' I asked speculatively, my mind already on the case of figuring out how to track Miss Jones down.

The young woman bit her lip and looked like there was a lot she'd _like_ to say about Miss. Berry, but couldn't because she was the boss' new protege.

'The showtunes get old real fast.' she finally allowed diplomatically, and I nodded in agreement as Berry finished her first song and immediately ripped into another that sounded ridiculously similar. The dame was no Miss. Garland, that was for sure.

I drained my club soda and fished a few dollar bills out of my pocket for the waitress as I stood to leave, stopping her before she left to ask if she maybe had an address I might find Miss. Jones at. She looked at me with wide, innocent eyes and I knew with utter certainty that she wasn't going to give me anything, so I bid her goodnight and took off in the direction of the dressing rooms. Hopefully my friend the Giant was working today.

It was just my luck that he was.

He rolled his eyes as he caught sight of me, and I clutched my heart to pantomime a lovesick fool as I approached.

'You remember me!' I teased him, 'Darlin', I'm so touched!'

The Giant looked heavenward, but I was pretty sure I saw the ghost of a smile on his lips.

'You wanna talk to Miss. Berry now?' he asked me, his voice holding that same weary tone that the waitress had had. I didn't need to be a detective to tell that, whoever this Rachel Berry dame was, she wasn't _nearly_ as popular as Mercedes- _Miss. Jones,_ had been.

I shook my head, probably a little more adamantly than I should have.

'I'm looking for Miss. Jones. You know where I can find her?'

The Giant eyed me skeptically for a minute before folding his arms across his chest.

'What makes you think I'd tell _you_ if I did?'

I pantomimed looking hurt. 'And here I was thinkin' we were friends!' I told him, jutting my bottom lip out a little in a pout. 'Does all our history mean nothing to you?'

There was a stretch of silence as The Giant raised his brows at me.

'Ok, fine.' I said, dropping the act. 'I owe her some money.' I gave him a plaintive look. 'But I can't give it to her if I can't find her, now can I, Bub?'

The Giant rolled his eyes again and huffed a deep sigh before rattling off an address so quickly I had to replay it in my head three times before I could figure out what he'd said.

'Thanks.' I reached up to pat the guy on the shoulder before I thought the better of it and withdrew my hand. I settled for a nod as I backed out of the club and hailed a cab back to my apartment. It was late, and for all I knew Miss. Jones had found a new job already - she certainly had the talent for it. I told myself that I'd try and catch her the following afternoon, and I fell into bed that night repeating her address to myself until I fell asleep.

'I have a proposition for you, Miss. Jones.' I said, my hands clasped between my knees as I sat opposite the woman in her modest parlour. She was actually _more_ stunning than I remembered, and still just as capable of messing with my senses, although I didn't mind so much this time. In fact, I was kind of banking on her ability to have the same effect on other men.

'I told you once before that I'm not a whore, Mr. Evans.' she told me casually. 'That hasn't changed, even if my circumstances have.'

I held up my hands to stop her continuing with that train of thought. It wasn't my place to comment on what girls did to get by, but I wasn't a pimp either.

'That's not what I meant.' I assured her quickly, my eyes steady on her face. 'I want you to come work for me.' she pulled a face and I stopped and corrected myself. ' _with_ me.' I clarified. 'We worked pretty well together, and with your brains and my muscle we could clean up in this town.' I shot her an entreating look. 'And I heard you don't have a job anymore, so…'

I watched as her luxurious lashes lowered suspiciously at me. 'Did you have something to do with that, Mr. Evans?' she asked me deliberately, and I was suddenly uncomfortably aware that I was on very thin ice. Finally, I settled on the truth.

'In a way.' I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. 'I suggested that Hudson leave Miss Fabray be and move on to someone new.' I caught her eyes with my own. 'I didn't know that would cheat you out of a job, and I'm sorry.'

Mercedes sighed and looked down at her small hands folded in her lap. 'That makes sense, I guess.' she shrugged sadly and studied her perfectly painted red fingernails. 'It was just so abrupt, you know? Like one day it's business as usual, and the next I walk in and they won't let me go to my dressing room.' She looked up at me, her big, brown eyes apologetic. 'I guess I just assumed that you…'

'I didn't.'

She nodded her acceptance, and the two of us sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before she honoured me with a dazzling smile.

'So what exactly would working with you entail?'

So that was how I met her - Miss. Mercedes Jones - the most remarkable woman I've ever had the pleasure to come across. She took some convincing, but not long after that initial meeting 'Evans Private Detective Agency' became ' _Jones_ & Evans Private Detective Agency.'

We make a pretty good team, Mercedes and me, and _boy_ , does she improve the aesthetics of this place, but her physical beauty is nothing compared to the smarts behind that angel face of hers. Since partnering up with her two years ago, the agency has increased its revenue by three hundred percent, and our pile of solved cases is getting higher every day.

I didn't used to get messed up much over dames, but then, I'd never met a dame like Miss Jones before. Lately I've been meaning to run the idea of changing the agency back to 'Evans Private Detective Agency' past her. Knowing her, I suspect that she'll have something to say about that, but a good detective always has a plan.

…Mine's in a ring box in my top drawer.

Here's hoping she says yes.


	3. The Best Laid Plans

This was _not_ how their anniversary was meant to go.

Sam had spent weeks planning the whole thing out. He'd burned a mix cd of all Mercedes' favourite songs for the road trip out of town. He'd cooked and prepared a ton of food for their romantic picnic in the national park, he'd even learned a whole bunch of new songs she'd said she'd liked on his guitar so he could serenade her with them after they'd finished eating. Everything had been going to plan… and then it had started raining.

Sam and Mercedes were celebrating four years together, and Sam had wanted so badly for everything to be perfect. That was why his heart had sank as soon as the one thing he _hadn't_ been able to control had messed up all the things that he could. Minutes after laying out the rug for their picnic, the skies had opened and he and Mercedes had been forced to just grab everything as quickly as possible and hightail it back to the car to avoid it all being soaked.

They'd managed to save the food, most of it anyway. Sam had quickly shoved it all into the trunk of the car before he'd handed Mercedes one of the two big golf umbrellas they kept in the back for emergencies. He knew how she got about her hair, and even though she hadn't managed to keep it completely dry he was glad she could at least keep the extra rain off while she got into the car.

Sam himself lingered with his head under the trunk as he tried to fight the crushing disappointment he felt at the way the day had gone. He'd tried _so hard,_ and in the end it had all been ruined. Sam's hand absently reached into his pocket to finger the velvet ring box he had concealed there, he wasn't sure _when_ he'd give it to Mercedes now. He'd have to go straight back to the drawing board when he got home.

Sam was getting soaked, or at least the part not covered by the hood of the trunk was, but he knew that Mercedes would sense in an instant that something more than the rain was bothering him if he got into the car the way he was feeling now. Sam gave himself a couple more minutes before he gusted out a final, deep sigh and slammed the trunk shut. Sam's head was down against the pummeling rain as he turned to make his way to the driver's seat, so it was the voice that stopped him before anything else.

'Not so fast.' Mercedes commanded, keeping the end of her still closed umbrella pointed at Sam's chest like a sword.

Sam frowned briefly, although a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he caught the deadly serious expression on his tiny girlfriend's face.

'Mercedes, what…'

'Mercedes is dead!' Mercedes interrupted with a toss of her long, dark hair, using the English accent Sam had discovered she could do perfectly during their second year of dating.

The confused smile on Sam's face grew as he began to suspect what his girlfriend was up to.

'You're getting wet, you know.' He warned, looking past the umbrella to quirk an eyebrow at her.

'Water has never deterred a pirate of the seven seas before!'

Sam laughed and tried to skirt past the umbrella to give Mercedes a well-deserved kiss for cheering him up. Clearly he hadn't hidden his disappointment well enough earlier, and his ridiculously awesome girlfriend had taken it upon herself to cheer him up. _God he loved this woman._

Mercedes blocked his path to her by poking the umbrella more firmly into his chest, although her badass exterior was ruined slightly when she had to blink a trickle of rainwater out of her eyes.

'What the hell?!' Sam complained, not enjoying being denied his right to feel her soft lips against his.

Mercedes arched an eyebrow, a small smirk dancing over her face as she used her free hand to toss him the other golf umbrella.

'What kind of pirate would I be if I just handed out my treasure to all that came to take it?' She demanded, chuckling out the words as she saw realization dawn on Sam's face.

'So I 'ave to battle you for it?' Sam clarified, putting on the Cockney accent Mercedes had told him once she found almost irresistibly sexy.

Mercedes tilted her chin haughtily in affirmation, but if Sam wasn't mistaken she was pushing her breasts out a little bit too. _Yup, still got it,_ he thought to himself as Mercedes independently cried out, 'Indeed you do!'

Sam leaped from behind the car, brandishing his umbrella like a sword of his own as his girlfriend scrambled back to keep the distance between them.

'Then I demand the battle takes place here and now,' Sam exclaimed, 'in the rain, where it is most dramatic!'

Mercedes took an exaggerated breath and narrowed her eyes at her foe, waiting for him to strike at any minute.

'Then en garde!' She launched her attack, but Sam was too quick for her, bringing his umbrella up to block the blow as he tapped her umbrella/blade to the side and attempted a swipe at her waist. Mercedes leapt out the way, shaking the wet hair out of her face as she answered his thrust with a maneuver of her own, dancing apart when neither gained the upper hand. The two of them circled each other warily in the empty stretch of parking lot, getting into it by calling out ridiculous taunts to each other.

'Give me the treasure!' Sam demanded, sliding his umbrella along hers until they were handle to handle.

'Never!' Mercedes whispered harshly as the rain fell heavy around them, jumping backwards so she could separate their makeshift blades. They parried a few times, and Mercedes allowed Sam to get away with a few ambitious lunges before she blocked his last one, easily sweeping his umbrella out of the way so she could step in close to his body and hold her umbrella length-ways across his throat.

'Looks like you lose, Captain No-Beard.' Mercedes gloated darkly against Sam's rain-slicked cheek, her voice sounding lower in the borrowed accent.

'Very well,' Sam made sure to gulp audibly, 'Then I have no choice but to surrender my own treasure to you, Great Pirate Dat-ass.'

Mercedes broke character to snort incredulously at the pirate name Sam had come up with for her. 'Dat Ass? Really?'

Sam bit his lip to keep from laughing at the expression on her face and nodded somberly. 'You're right of course.' He told her, coming out of his accent to do so. 'By rights it should be 'Dat-arse.'

'Oh my gosh!' Mercedes laughed, leaning her head against Sam's firm chest as tears sprang to her eyes.

'It's in my pocket.' Sam whispered into her hair, smiling warmly even though he was supposed to still be in character. Mercedes laughed again, removing the umbrella from her boyfriend's chest and shook her head at her his shameless attempts to get her to touch him.

'In your pocket!?' Mercedes demanded amusedly, lifting her now sopping wet hair off her neck. 'Come _on,_ Sam.'

'Seriously.' Sam promised in his own voice, lifting a hand so he could push the dripping hair off his face. He lifted a daring eyebrow at the small, drenched woman in front of him and resumed his Cockney accent to taunt her.

'I didn't fink the Great Pirate Dat-arse was afraid of anyfin'.'

Mercedes narrowed her eyes at him, but he didn't miss the ghost of a smile on her lips as she completely unnecessarily pressed her body against his as she snuck a hand into his pocket.

'If this is you trying to-'

Her eyes widened as her fingers grazed the velvet of the ring box in his pocket and she pulled her hand away empty to cover her face. Her sudden flush of tears mingling with the rainwater, that still fell steadily around them, as she locked eyes with the love of her life.

'Just so you know,' Sam explained not breaking the eye contact as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. 'I _had_ planned on doing this slightly differently.'

He ended up with one knee in a puddle when he knelt down in front of a very shocked-looking Mercedes, but he was focused so intently on her, the woman he was in love with, that he barely noticed.

'And it wasn't raining, when I imagined it.' Sam continued with a slight chuckle as he eased the box open, letting Mercedes see the Emerald cut diamond and amethyst ring that nestled inside.

'But actually, I think this is the perfect way to do it, because this is _us,_ babe, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life having these moments with you.'

Sam took a deep breath. 'So whaddya say, Mercedes 'Great Pirate Dat-arse/Jedi Knight Hott Moonwalker/Lady Laughsalot of the Square Table' Jones. Will you marry me?'

It felt like the whole world held its breath to hear her answer, even the rain quieted for the ten seconds it took for Mercedes to launch herself into Sam's arms with an excitable 'yes' and cover his face with kisses.

'You know, we're totally going to catch colds from being out in the rain so long.' Sam observed later as they sat wrapped in blankets in the backseat of the car. The rain slated against the windows as Mercedes sat with her back to his chest while they finished off their picnic.

'Probably.' Mercedes agreed happily as she took another bite of her sandwich and paused to admire the sparkling ring on her left finger. 'It was worth it.'

Sam pulled her back tighter against his chest and nodded as he stole a bite of the sandwich in her hand.

'Totally worth it.' he beamed, just about managing to swallow the food in his mouth before he sneezed.


	4. Escape

'Why aren't you getting ready?' Mercedes asked her husband, watching him in the dressing table mirror as he lounged on their bed with his hands behind his head. He'd been openly watching her for the past ten minutes, his green eyes fixed on Mercedes as she applied her make up and sprayed on her perfume.

'I am.' Sam stated simply a faint smile on his lips as his wife swept blush over the apples of her cheeks.

'You're getting ready?' Mercedes asked him in a monotone, one elegant eyebrow arched incredulously as her eyes flicked over Sam's sweat pants and ratty t-shirt, 'right now?'

'Yup.' Sam grinned at her reflection in the mirror, 'this is part of my routine.'

'Your routine is waiting until the last possible minute and then rushing about like a madman so we end up late?' Mercedes paused as she considered the words that had just come out of her mouth. 'Wow. That really _is_ your routine.'

She shook her head and pawed through her make up drawer until she found what she was looking for, sliding the drawer shut when she was done.

'I'm not waiting for you, you know.' Mercedes warned as she unscrewed the cap on her lipgloss. 'I'm _not_ making the guys wait again. Last time Santana ate all our breadsticks in revenge and I had to spend the entire night trying to convince Kurt that the leaves in my hair were a fashion statement.'

'I wanted to kiss you.' Sam shrugged, sounding completely unrepentant as he rolled off the bed and lifted his arms over his head in a deep stretch. 'Behind that tree was the only private spot.'

He grinned at the memory as he wandered over to Mercedes. Sam scratched idly at his flat stomach and leaned down to wrap his arms around his wife, nuzzling into her softness as he watched her slide the lipgloss wand over her lips.

'I like watching you get ready. It relaxes me.'

'The lastthing _you_ need is to be _more_ relaxed.' Mercedes told him seriously, but Sam just grinned at her reflection and bent his head to plant an affectionate kiss on her temple. As he brought his head up his eyes caught on the unfamiliar container clutched in his wife's hand.

'Hey, is that new?'

Mercedes checked the tube and shrugged.

'Kinda, I bought it a while ago but this is the first time I've used it.'

Sam raised a pale eyebrow as Mercedes pursed her lips into the mirror and screwed the cap back on the lipgloss.

'Seriously, Sam.' She complained, not bothering to look at him. 'You _need_ to get dressed.'

Sam ran a hand through his hair and admitted that she had a point. They were due to meet up with the rest of the old high school gang at Breadstix in a half hour and he was nowhere near ready. It was just that watching Mercedes put her make up on was one of Sam's favourite pastimes. It was like a tour of all his favourite features. It started with Mercedes' big, doe eyes and long eyelashes when she put her mascara on, then journeyed to her soft, kissable cheeks as she swept on her blush. After that there was the sexy dip of her neck when she put on her perfume… and then the absolute _best_ part – when she put on her lipgloss.

Actually, for Sam the best part was _removing_ Mercedes' lipgloss – with his tongue.

'I'll get dressed.' Sam promised, smoothing a curl out of his wife's face and looking intently at her. 'I just have to…'

 _'What?_ '

'…do this _one_ thing…'

Sam had been inching his way closer to Mercedes as he spoke, and now he cut her off from saying anything else by pressing his lips to hers and darting out his tongue to sample the new flavour coating her lips.

'Mmm' Sam murmured thoughtfully as he pulled away from her, smacking his lips together as he savoured the taste of her on his tongue.

'Nope,' Sam shook his messy blond hair and leaned in to recapture Mercedes' lips with his own. 'Didn't get enough, have to try again.'

This time Mercedes was nearly horizontal on the bench with Sam on top of her by the time they broke apart for air, and she stayed that way for a few seconds after Sam came back up again. He was licking the remaining gloss from his lips when Mercedes straightened up beside him, looking dazed.

'It's _ok_.' Sam reviewed with a non-committal shrug. 'It doesn't crack the top three, though.'

'There's a… a top three?' Mercedes asked, her voice trembling as her fingers fluttered to her hair, then to her lips, then down to her neck and back again. 'Of… _lipgloss_?' Mercedes guessed.

She was having trouble thinking straight. Actually she couldn't remember her own name, but 'Sadie' sounded vaguely familiar.

 _Damn Sam and his knee-weakening kisses!_

'Tropical Sunrise, Pina Colada and _Pomegranate._ ' Sam informed her without missing a beat, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at his wife as the stunned expression on her face began to fade.

'You have… favourite lipgloss flavours.' Mercedes stated carefully, looking like what she wanted to say was ' _Who is this man I married?'_

' _No._ ' Sam stood up and walked over to the closet so he could grab a shirt and some pants. 'I have favourite _Mercedes_ flavours.' He corrected, his voice muffled as he sifted through the hangers in their wardrobe. 'The lipglosses are like frosting, they just add a little punch to what's already there.'

'Did you just compare me to a _cupcake_?' Mercedes asked with a confused frown, but her husband either didn't hear her, or chose that moment to remain silent.

Mercedes swiveled around on the stool as Sam stepped out, buttoning up a light blue dress shirt as he went. It _would_ be light blue, Mercedes thought treacherously - she was a _sucker_ for him in light blue. There was definitely a part of her wishing it wasn't covering up all that gorgeous, toned flesh of his, though. Mercedes refused to let her thoughts continue to wander down that path, so she forced herself to turn away from the hotness that was her husband to reapply her lipgloss.

When she turned around again, Sam was fully dressed and watching her with a wicked glint in his eye.

'You reapplied.'

He walked towards her looking too nonchalant and Mercedes quickly got up from the dressing table so the bench was between them. She'd known him long enough now to know that she couldn't trust that look.

'Yup.' she flustered. 'I did. Time to go now.'

Sam tilted his head to one side but didn't take his eyes off the smooth, cocoa plains of his wife's face as he edged closer to her.

'Are you nervous?'

'No!' Mercedes said a little too quickly as she fidgeted with the purse clutched in her hand.

 _Damn it, why had Sam made that cupcake comment? Now he was looking at her like he had a craving for something sweet and she was the last one left in the whole damn world, and he was wearing blue and her skin felt hot and…_ Sam gripped Mercedes' hips and pulled her in for a long, hot and surprisingly sweet kiss.

'Mmm… _Pina Colada_.' Sam whispered against her mouth, breaking from her just to lean in and plant another, softer peck on her lips.

' _Excellent_ choice, Cupcake.' Sam commended before he tugged on her hips to pull her back for seconds. His lips quirked when Mercedes sighed into his kiss and she dipped her hands into the back of his dress pants, snaking her hands under the hem of Sam's shirt to graze her fingers lightly, then harder against the skin at the small of his back. When they pulled apart again the fresh coat of lipgloss Mercedes had applied was gone.

'You know what, Cupcake?' Sam breathed as he grabbed his car keys off the top of the dresser.

' _You're going to need the tube_.'


	5. Lipgloss and Taffeta

Sam looked at the bright, tulle and taffeta-filled window display of the store Mercedes was trying to drag him into and groaned. Loudly.

Before today, Sam would never have suspected that the small town of Lima, Ohio held quite so _many_ dress shops. _After_ today it was Sam's fervent wish that he would never, ever have to set foot in one again.

'Cede, darlin',' Sam began, flashing his girlfriend his most charming smile and puppy dog eyes, ' _please,_ no.'

'I can't _take_ another one of those places right now, baby.' Sam complained, eyeing the dress shop like it was the hell mouth. 'Seriously, I'm gonna have nightmares about being strangled by endless rows of organza.'

He eyed his unconvinced-looking girlfriend warily and then dropped his voice so it was at its lowest and most persuasive. 'Come on… have mercy, Mercy.'

Sam chuckled briefly at his own joke, but the laughter stopped abruptly when he realized that Mercedes was taking advantage of his distraction and edging him closer to the shop door.

'Babe.' Sam said in a firmer voice, 'this is, like, the _fifth_ one. How is it even any different to the other four?'

The look of horror Mercedes shot him was enough to let Sam know that he'd said completely the wrong thing.

'This is _prom,_ Sam.' His girlfriend explained, her forehead wrinkling slightly as she fought to make him understand. 'It's _senior prom_.' She enthused, her pretty face bright with animation. Sam thought she looked so adorable that he couldn't stop himself from leaning in and planting a soft kiss on the tip of Mercedes's nose. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he kissed her, but that still didn't seem to deter her any.

'And it's my first one with an actual _date_.' Mercedes continued, and Sam opened his mouth to point out that they'd gone together last year too, but she sensed his protestation and cut him off without even having to open her eyes.

'A date I don't have to _share._ ' she clarified, sighing as she lifted her eyelids and focussed her big, doe eyes on her boyfriend.

Sam hoped Mercedes didn't realise how much of a sucker he was for those eyes. If she did he'd end up in every dress shop in the state just because she'd blinked at him and said 'please'.

'I know I went with you last year,' Mercedes was saying, 'but this year I'll be going as your _girlfriend,_ and I want it to be perfect.'

Mercedes caught the gentle smile that lingered on Sam's face as he looked at her and, stepping closer to him, stood on tiptoe so she could nuzzle his nose with her own and plant a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

The blond closed his eyes and unclasped his hand from hers so he could wrap both arms around Mercedes' waist and pull her closer to him. No matter how close Mercedes was, he always wanted her closer… but they were in a crowded shopping mall and he had to keep it PG-13, so Sam settled for enjoying the feeling of Mercedes' soft body wrapped in his arms instead.

'You know, you could wear a potato sack and still be the most beautiful girl in there right?' Sam whispered honestly against Mercedes' plump mouth, their lips brushing together slightly as he spoke. Sam didn't pull the woman in for a kiss just yet, even though the slight hint he was getting of her pineapple lipgloss was practically driving him insane. Sometimes waiting was good, and Sam was hoping that this time it would encourage Mercedes to give up on dress shopping for the day and go home to make out with him instead.

'You just want to go home.' Mercedes accused as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend's neck, the dress shop temporarily forgotten as he dropped his forehead to hers.

'I'm not gonna lie to you,' Sam began, a smile stretching across his face. 'I _do_ want to go home pretty bad.'

' _See!_ ' Mercedes pulled out of his arms to swat at him but Sam didn't even seem to notice as he pulled her back against him almost immediately.

Wisps of his blond hair tickled at Mercedes' neck as he dipped his head to nip at the smooth, soft curve of her throat. Sam smiled a small, satisfied smile against Mercedes' vanilla-scented skin when he felt her heart beat pick up under his lips.

Sam stopped when he remembered that they were in public, and forced himself to take a deep breath and pull away to get some space between them, even though space between them was pretty much the opposite of what he wanted. Sam still kept his hands firmly anchored on Mercedes' hips though, as he leaned down to murmur into her ear, his voice so low it vibrated against her ear and sent tremors down her spine.

' _I'd make it worth your while_.'

Sam was elated when Mercedes shivered against him, and for a brief moment he truly thought that his tour of dress shops in Lima, Ohio was over. His hand was actually already sneaking to his pocket for the keys to his truck when Mercedes' pulled away from him.

Sam knew he was on dangerous ground when Mercedes trailed her hands down his muscular arms, her nails skirting over the bunched fabric as she grazed her fingertips down the sleeves of his slim-fitting hoodie. From the outside it would have looked innocent enough, but the simple action was scrambling Sam's brain and making his breath hitch in his throat.

'Just… _one more_ store?' Mercedes asked him softly, her brown eyes blinking hopefully up at him through long, sexy lashes. What little resolve Sam had left was completely destroyed when Mercedes sucked her plump lower lip into her mouth and worried at it with her teeth while she waited for him answer. All he could think was, ' _let me do that_.' and he knew that if she'd let him he'd gladly traipse through every dress store in Ohio.

He was such a sucker for the girl in front of him, but he didn't care.

Those lips were his kryptonite, and Sam resigned himself to a lifetime of giving into Mercedes' demands whenever she brought them into play.

She let out a little squeak of surprise when she found Sam's mouth pressed to hers, but happily kissed him back and giggled when his tongue swept across her lips to get a taste of the lipgloss he'd been dying to taste for the past few minutes. Then it seemed only right to sweep his tongue into Mercedes' mouth and deepen the kiss, and she welcomed him with a soft moan as she brought her hands up to scrape through his hair.

'Alright,' Sam breathed dazedly. His usually full lips were even more swollen from the kiss and his hair was tufting out in crazy directions but the grin he gave her was nothing but joyful. Sam's smile widened as he took in Mercedes' now lipgloss-free lips and equally dazed expression and reached out to wrap his hand around her small one to tug her into the dress shop.

'One more store.'


	6. First Time For Everything

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Glee or any of its characters, nor do I own any of the songs used within this fic. All rights go to their respective owners.

Mercedes was fuming as she made her way out of the auditorium that evening. How _dare_ he! How _dare_ Jesse St. James imply that she wasn't good enough? _Not enough choreography?_ Mercedes snorted, _not enough choreography her fine black ass!_ She'd stayed to watch Rachel's performance, and yeah, the girl was good, but all she'd done was stand in the middle of the stage and gesture, _just like she **always**_ _did_.

Mercedes took some comfort in the fact that St. Jackass had been mean about Kurt and Santana's performances too - they'd both killed it, and Mercedes didn't need any more confirmation that Jesse was thinking with his little head instead of the hugely-inflated, galaxy-sized one that sat on his shoulders, but it still _hurt_. She'd poured her _all_ into that song, she always did, and it was always one rejection after another.

Mercedes slowed a little as she slapped open the doors to the parking lot and let the warm evening air take some of the fight out of her. She was still irritated, but as she stood on the stoop, taking deep breaths and focusing her attention on the trees in the middle distance, she started to get her feelings under control. Mercedes stood like that for a minute longer before she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and told herself that she was going to be fine, maybe not today, but tomorrow? Definitely tomorrow.

When she turned in the direction of her car she was surprised to see someone leaning against the passenger door. She would know that figure anywhere - tall and athletic with a mop of blond hair - she just hadn't expected to see him _now_. Mercedes approached carefully, knowing the inevitable question that would come and the answer she would have to give: _No, I didn't make it. Again._

Sam was scuffing his foot along the tarmac of the parking lot as he waited for Mercedes. She hadn't specifically said that he _couldn't_ come support her, although Sam guessed that the fact that the auditions were closed probably implied that she hadn't expected him to, but he'd wanted to be there for her. Looking at her face now he was glad that he'd come, she didn't look happy and Sam was filled with indignation on her behalf.

'Do you want me to kick his ass?' he asked without preamble as soon as she reached him, but Mercedes just shook her head and slid her arms around him, resting her forehead on his chest. Sam propped his chin on her head as he held her. He wasn't going to deny that he was a little surprised by her action, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to enjoy the feel of her arms around him, or the soft press of her body against his. After a while Mercedes spoke, her voice sounding muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

'He said I didn't have enough choreography.' She admitted before she gently pulled away from him. It wasn't cold, but Sam still missed her warmth against him, and he tried not to look as disappointed as he felt when she let him go and settled against the car next to him.

'He wouldn't have been able to handle your choreography.' Sam told her earnestly, ' _Your body's too bootylicious for him, babe_.' He sang the last line and was relieved to see a reluctant smile spread across Mercedes' face.

'You did _not._ ' Mercedes laughed, shaking her head as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

' _I don't think he's ready, for your jelly!_ ' Sam sang as he attempted to booty pop.

'Oh God, no! Stop!' Mercedes laughed as she covered her face with her hands.

'Oh Lord,' she laughed, 'I can see I'm going to have to give you some lessons this summer.'

Sam grinned and resumed his spot next to her.

'Hey, I _brought it_ at Prom.' He informed her, 'I was on _fya._ ' He stepped away from the car again to demonstrate with one of his signature moves- The Robot.

Mercedes laughed again and smacked him lightly on the chest, her earlier foul mood forgotten. 'You are _such_ a dork.'

Sam stopped abruptly and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, the smile that had been bright on his face disappearing faster than turning off a light switch.

'Yeah, I know. Sorry.'

Mercedes frowned, 'Why are you apologizing? It's who you are. Besides, I _like_ dorky. Dorky Sam is who just cheered me up when I really wasn't feeling so great. Dorky Sam is who I had a great time with at prom.'

'Yeah?' A small smile flashed on Sam's face before he dropped his gaze to the ground. 'It's just, Quinn and Santana both…'

'Stop.' Mercedes held up a hand. 'Look, I love those girls but they both had their own sets of issues that had nothing to do with you.'

Mercedes moved her hand to Sam's cheek and made sure he was looking at her before she went on.

'There is _nothing_ wrong with who you are, Sam Evans. You best start believing it.' Sam's eyes met hers and took in the sincerity there, Mercedes could be a diva at times, but she was honest and he knew she wouldn't have said it if she didn't mean it.

'Thanks, Cede.'

Mercedes dropped her hand from his face as if she had only just realized what she had done and quickly turned away from him to stare out into the parking lot.

'So… if I'm awesome as I am…' Sam spoke into the quiet that had stretched between them. 'Then my dance moves…' he raised an expectant eyebrow but Mercedes just let out an incredulous laugh.

'There's always room for improvement, _Samson_.' She pointed out, reaching up a hand to ruffle his shaggy blond hair.

Sam clutched a hand to his chest in mock hurt at the nickname, but he knew that Mercedes didn't really mind his long hair. She'd actually run her fingers through it a couple of times while they'd slow-danced at prom, and she hadn't seemed to mind then. Sam couldn't help the grin that took over his face at the memory, dancing with Cedes' had been awesome… and eye opening. Once again Sam felt the all-too-familiar urge to pull Mercedes close to him and wrap his arms around her, truth be told he'd been having a _lot_ of moments like that since prom. Mercedes had been so warm, accepting, and funny that he'd come home and kicked himself for not working up the nerve to ask her out sooner.

Although, now he thought about it, _she'd_ asked _him_ to prom, Sam clenched his jaw against the memory of her walking out of the choir room after all that discussion about prom. He'd seen her, and he'd wanted to comfort her but he'd had no idea what to do. If things had been different he would have asked her himself, but he hadn't - _because he hadn't been able to afford it_ Sam realized with a sinking heart. There was no way he could afford to take her out on a proper date now either, not yet anyway, but that didn't mean he had to let go of her just yet, did it?

'So what are you doing here?' Mercedes asked after Sam had been quiet for a while.

Sam's eyebrows knit together briefly in confusion, he would have thought that part was obvious, the _why_ would have been harder to explain.

'I came to see how your audition went.'

Mercedes seemed genuinely surprised at Sam's response and a startled, 'Really?' slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to check it.

Sam laughed and put an arm around her, pulling her closer briefly before he replied.

'Of course, I knew this was important to you. I wanted to support you.'

Mercedes looked up at him, not sure if he was being serious or not. Since prom her relationship with Sam had changed. They hung out a lot more now, having discovered that they actually had more in common than they'd initially thought, and Mercedes had picked up a semi-regular gig babysitting his younger siblings - but there were still moments where she wondered at Sam's agenda. She'd catch him looking at her every now and again with an unfathomable expression on his face, and there would be times when he'd say things to her that she didn't expect to hear from a friend. Sam had quickly become one of Mercedes' closest friends, but it had happened so fast that it scared her a little bit. Mercedes was well aware that her 'close friends' didn't tend to stick around for long. Kurt and Quinn had both moved on from her in time and she worried that Sam would do the same - but then again, Sam was different. He _felt_ different. He did things like this, showing up after an audition he didn't even get to see just to find out how it had gone.

Mercedes smiled up at the blond boy and saw the honesty in his eyes, he'd really come out here just to support her. She felt the heat prick behind her eyes and wrapped her arms around Sam's waist, squeezing him tighter to her briefly before she dropped her arms again.

'Thanks.'

'So what did you sing?' Sam asked as he steered her towards his car, he had a shift starting soon and he'd be late if he didn't get a move on. Mercedes fell into step beside him easily with Sam's arm still around her shoulders, guiding her. She looked up at him questioningly for a second but, after a swift mental calculation, quickly figured out the situation. Mercedes shook her head slightly against the realization that she'd spent so much time with Sam in the past few weeks that she actually knew his work timetable.

'I sang, _Try A Little Tenderness_.' Mercedes said in answer to his earlier question. She almost tripped when Sam stopped abruptly, and would have done had it not been for his strong, steadying hand on her waist. Mercedes turned puzzled eyes on Sam and found that his green eyes were intense on her.

'You sang _Try A Little Tenderness._ ' Sam confirmed, clearly trying to get the facts straight in his head, 'And he _didn't… like it?_ ' Sam asked, disbelief pitching his voice about an octave higher than usual.

'I changed my mind.' he announced abruptly. 'I _am_ going to kick his ass. What time is it? Do you think I could get it done before my shift starts at 7?' Sam mused, only half-joking as he checked the readout on his watch and made to turn back towards the school.

'Sam!' Mercedes voice was full of exasperation as she tugged on his hand to pull him back towards his car. Sam turned back to Mercedes reluctantly, sure that she must be aware on some level that holding his hand distracted him- he considered it playing dirty.

'Fine.' He acquiesced shrugging, 'But can we at least agree that he's a dumbass? Your version of _Try A Little Tenderness_ takes people to church and personally introduces them to God. If he managed to find fault with it then he's either deaf or pulling criticisms out of his a-'

'Okay!' Mercedes interrupted, laughing. 'I get it. He's an ass and you're my biggest fan. I see that now.'

Sam still had hold of Mercedes' hand so he used it to spin her into a twirl, laughingly pulling her into a simple box step as he sang,

 _'And at last you see the liiiiiight! And it's like the fog has lifteeeed. And at last you see the liiiight… and it's like the sky is newwwww!'_

'I knew you secretly liked that movie!' Mercedes exclaimed after he'd let her go. 'You tried to act all macho in front of Stevie but I knew the truth!'

Sam felt the blush stain his cheeks. So, _maybe_ he'd watched it a couple of times when his siblings were out. That didn't mean he _liked_ it.

'It's Stacie's favourite…'

'Hell to the no!' Mercedes admonished, ' _You knew the words._ '

 _Busted._

'Ok, so _maybe_ I like to break up my sci-fi viewing with the odd Disney movie.' Sam admitted with a shrug, 'I'm like an onion, I have layers!'

Mercedes laughed so hard she snorted.

'Boy, you just quoted Shrek, and it's not even Disney!'

Sam's eyes widened, _damn, he hadn't thought she'd catch that one, although on second thoughts, he probably shouldn't have used his Shrek impression to say it._

'It is _too,_ Disney.'

Mercedes' face turned serious when she realized that her movie knowledge was being challenged. She might have stronger feelings for Sam than she knew what to do with, but this was _not_ ok. He had crossed a line and now her honour was at stake. She almost wished it were colder so she'd have gloves to use to challenge him to a duel. _No one_ questioned Mercedes Jones' movie knowledge. _No one._

'No it's not.'

'I bet you it is!'

'Oh yeah? What do you wanna bet, _Flash Gordon_?'

Sam's face lit up.

'You've seen _Flash Gordon_?'

'Eyes on the prize, Evans!'

They'd stopped by Sam's car, so he unlocked the door and pulled out his pizza delivery uniform as he thought, shoving the cap on his head at an angle and pulling on the bright red jacket that smelled softly of tomato and pizza cheese.

'Fine.' He said after a moment. 'I win, you give me those dance lessons you seem to think I could use. And if you win…'

'If I win…' Mercedes took over, her voice trailing off as she thought, 'If I win…' her face lit up as she thought of something, 'MST3K. Yeah,' she nodded, warming to her theme, 'you watch MST3K with me. My brother and I used to watch it together but he's at college now, and for some reason Kurt hates it, so I have no one to watch it with.'

Sam laughed and shook his head.

'Are you kidding? I _love_ Mystery Science Theatre! You don't have to win a bet to get me to watch it with you. I'd watch it with you anyway.'

'Oh.' Mercedes looked completely taken aback, 'Really?'

'Yes, _really_.' Sam chuckled at her bemused expression. 'Pick something else.'

Mercedes' eyebrows shot up at the command but she didn't question it, instead she shrugged and said 'Guitar lessons?'

Sam's grin widened, 'Again, I'd give them to you anyway. Come on, Cede, make it interesting.' He taunted in a low voice, forgetting for the moment that he'd begun to doubt that Shrek _was_ Disney not long after he'd said it.

A devious expression crossed Mercedes' face as he watched, and Sam began to regret his choice of words. An expression like that clearly didn't bode well.

'Fimo.' She stated simply.

'What… what does that mean?'

'It's a kind of clay, Sam. I know you don't think all this fabulous jewelry I wear grows on trees.'

'Wait, you _make_ that?' Sam asked, impressed. She'd worn a necklace shaped like a Nintendo 64 controller the other day that he'd thought was so awesome he'd been kinda sad that _he_ couldn't wear jewelry like that.

Mercedes nodded, 'Yup.'

'So what do I have to do?' Sam asked after a second.

'I have a bunch of orders from my _etsy_ page that I have to fill.' Mercedes explained, 'It would go a lot quicker if you'd help me with it.'

Sam gulped and shook his head, no way he could make the kind of stuff she did.

'Why not?' She asked honestly, looking up into his green eyes, 'You said to make things interesting.'

'Look, I'm a Color Me Mine _fiend,_ but… I'm not sure I could make anything that looks as good as you, Cede.'

Mercedes chuckled softly and bit her lip before Sam realized what he'd said.

'That looks as good as _yours_ ' he corrected, before throwing caution to the wind and adding, 'I couldn't even dream of making anything that looks as good as you. You're kinda perfect.'

Mercedes narrowed her eyes questioningly at him for a second before she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest.

'I really don't know what to make of you, Sam.' She told him quietly. 'Not at all.'

Mercedes ran a hand through her hair and turned to leave, this was exactly what she meant, he'd say things like that and she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

Mercedes only managed a few paces before Sam caught her hand in his, tugging her gently to get her to face him again.

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'It means that I…' Sam's eyes suddenly felt hot on hers and she tried desperately to look at anything but him.

'I just…I don't… I'm trying to figure out how I… feel… about you and I think I know where you stand but then you say things like that and it's just really difficult to figure out, you know? Because I did this before, with Kurt, and that was a huge, embarrassing mess and I don't want to go down that road again. So I'm trying not to listen to my feelings because my feelings are messy little suckers and they don't know what they're doing. Ok?'

When she was done Mercedes allowed herself to look at Sam's face again, searching his expression for any sign as to what his reaction might be to her little outburst. She was already regretting saying anything. Did she really have to bring up, Kurt? _Really?_ She could have gone a whole lifetime without Sam knowing that she'd once had a crush on her gay best friend. Mercedes closed her eyes against the embarrassment of the memory. Thatwas _exactly_ why she had to be careful with her feelings, no one wanted a repeat of Kurt's busted window.

'What are your feelings saying, Cede?' Sam's voice was soft and low but cut across the quiet of the empty parking lot with ease, and when Mercedes' eyes fluttered open again she found that he was a lot closer to her than he had been before.

'I… I don't…' The heat from Sam's body was doing something to her, Mercedes realized, the heat combined with the look he was giving her. He was looking at her like she was the only person in the world and she was about to say something incredibly important, but Mercedes was having trouble breathing, let alone remembering how to form sentences.

'Shall I tell you what _my_ feelings are doing, Cede?' Sam asked, still using that quiet, low voice that seemed to resonate at the same frequency as her bones. Surely that had to be the only explanation for what it was doing to her? They'd had a couple of moments like this since they'd gotten closer, but this one was harder for Mercedes to ignore. Her _feelings_ for him were getting harder to ignore.

Sam reached up a hand to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face and Mercedes' eyes fluttered shut automatically as his fingers brushed her skin, her breath catching in her throat as they lingered against her cheek, sending tingles down her spine.

'S…sure.' Mercedes heard herself say, although she wasn't sure how she'd managed to form the word.

Sam's smile was loose and languid as he looked down into Mercedes' soft, dark eyes.

' _I think_ … that since prom I've-'

A shrill beeping interrupted them as the alarm on Sam's watch went off.

' _Dammit.'_ He swore under his breath as he quickly disabled the alarm.

'I'm sorry I-'

'Have to go to work,' Mercedes finished for him, 'I know. It's ok.'

She gave him a small, shaky smile as he unlocked and opened his car door.

'We can… talk about this another time.' Mercedes suggested as she backed away from him towards the safety of her own car. She had been about 2 seconds away from making an utter _fool_ of herself, Mercedes realized. With _Sam,_ who was funny and sweet and cute and waaaaay out of her league.

Mercedes pressed her forehead against the cool glass of her car in an attempt to try and and introduce some clarity back into her befuddled mind… and then quickly realized that clarity wasn't coming anytime soon. Taking a step back from the window, Mercedes fished in her pocket for her keys.

The sound of footsteps pounding on the pavement behind her had her on high alert, but when Mercedes turned she just saw Sam, out of breath and clutching his work hat in his hand.

'Ok, you know what?' he asked, breathlessly, 'Fuck it. Since prom I've wanted to do _this_.'

Sam's mouth came down on hers in a rush of heat and passion and… _sparks,_ Mercedes thought, _so **that's**_ _what they're always talking about_. She smiled against Sam's mouth as she tentatively kissed him back, enjoying the insistent pressure of his lips on hers. Her arms drifted around his neck and her fingers tangled in his hair as his large hands stroked up her sides and splayed over her ribs. She could feel the heat from his hands like a furnace through the thin material of her shirt, but it was a good burn, she thought numbly, _definitely_ a good burn. Mercedes sighed against Sam's mouth just as his tongue licked her bottom lip questingly, and she let him in without a second thought, darting her own tongue into his mouth to caress his. He tasted of Cherry Chapstick and Sprite, and something else she couldn't think straight to place right now. Mercedes' thoughts were quickly becoming occupied with Sam and _only_ Sam, and her whole body felt like _magic_ , she tingled everywhere his body touched hers - and there were a lot more places their bodies touched now he'd backed her up against the car.

Eventually, they were forced to come up for air, and the pair stood smiling goofily at each other for a good few moments before either of them was able to speak.

'Wow.' Sam breathed, his mouth stretching into a Cheshire grin.

Mercedes just smiled back at him, her brain still unable to form coherent thoughts other than, _ohwowthatwasawesomeohgoshthatwasincrediblemywholebodyisonfireholycrapthatwasthebestthingeverwhencanwedoitagain?!_

Mercedes felt herself slowly fade back into consciousness like a radio being tuned to the right station, after a while everything was sharp and clear - _except for Sam,_ she thought, _what the **hell**_ _was that?_ Other than _wonderful,_ she amended giddily.

Sam seemed to be following a similar train of thought because he dropped his forehead against hers and sighed, trying to put words to the cacophany of emotions that were rioting through him at that moment.

'I know I can't offer you a whole lot right now, Mercedes,' Sam explained, his breath ghosting over her still swollen lips, 'but I… I think we're worth a shot. You're so… _amazing…_ and you let me be _me.'_ Sam breathed out a soft laugh, _'_ and you make my heart race.' He held Mercedes' palm flat against his chest to prove his point. His heart was going like a jackhammer beneath his jacket and he was sure that she'd be able to feel it beneath her fingers.

'See?' he asked, his voice trembling a tiny bit, he still wasn't completely down from the high that came from kissing her. Mercedes let out a soft laugh of her own and nodded.

'I… I would like that, Sam.' She blushed and buried her head in his chest in sudden shyness. 'Are you sure?'

Sam stepped away from her and crooked a finger under her chin so she would look at him.

'I'm positive.'

His eyes landed on his watch and he started, he was _**so** late. _ If he left now he might _just_ make it to work on time, but it would be a squeeze. Mercedes' features softened as she watched the panic flood over Sam's face.

'You're also late. Go! We'll talk about this later.' She promised, sending him on his way with a soft push, but he just came back to her to press a gentle, chaste kiss to her cheek.

'Drive safe.'

'I will.' Sam jogged backwards for a couple of paces as he called out,

'I'll text you!'

Then he was sprinting towards his car and Mercedes watched with more than a little concern as he practically dived behind the wheel. She felt better when she saw him carefully put on his seatbelt and wave goodbye to her before he turned out of the parking lot.

Mercedes checked her reflection in the rearview mirror and shook her head at the huge smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on her face. _Sam Evans,_ she accused mentally, but the thought only made her smile grow wider. Mercedes clicked on the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, not even realizing that she was singing softlyto herself.

 _'All at once, everything is different. Now that I see you.'_


	7. Always Be My Baby

'This _sucks.'_ Artie complained as he watched Mercedes hover uncertainly with her lunch tray gripped in her hands. It should have been a no-brainer, the glee club had commandeered one of the long tables in the cafeteria and were laughing boisterously with one another, but Mercedes seemed to have zoned all of them out as her eyes fell immediately on Sam's downturned head as he picked sadly at his food.

Artie watched as Mercedes bit her lip and took a tentative step towards their table before abruptly changing her mind to turn and head out of the lunchroom. Artie wasn't the only one who noticed either, Santana watched her fellow Troubletone retreat with narrowed eyes and turned accusingly to the blond boy next to her as soon as Mercedes was out of sight.

Sam was lost in his own thoughts as he stared down at his half-eaten lunch, so it was a moment before he realised that the whole table was staring at him.

'What?' he demanded tiredly, finally giving up on his food and pushing the tray away from him.

' _You're ruining it.'_ Santana told him pointedly as the others nodded in agreement.

He sighed, he wasn't really in the mood for glee club drama and he'd been trying to stay out of it, but now it seemed like the drama was finding _him_. Mercedes had shown up for school today in an outfit that seemed specifically designed to torture him, and he'd had to take to looking away from her and keeping his hands clenched at his sides to stop himself from touching her whenever she came close. But she wasn't his to touch - not anymore - and this time it was his own stupid fault.

'Ruining what?' Sam asked with a sigh, raising weary eyes to meet the ones trained on him.

'Ruining glee club!' Santana huffed, leaning back from the table to fold her arms across her chest.

'For once I'm going to have to agree with Santana,' Rachel cut in loudly, 'at first your forbidden love story was _endearing_ and _romantic_.' she traced the words in the air dreamily with one hand, before her hand and voice lowered ominously. 'But now it's just depressing and _draining.'_

The brunette raised a clawed hand to mime tearing at her throat.

'I can practically _feel_ your misery choking at my talent!'

'We're not supposed to be encouraging them to stay apart, _Man Hands_.' Santana shot at her and Rachel frowned, confused.

'I _wasn't.'_

'I'm pretty sure your sadness is killing baby unicorns.' Brittany interjected quietly, and Sam managed to cock an apologetic half-smile for her, although he couldn't bring himself to meet her accusing gaze.

'So what do you want me to do?' he asked eventually, his eyes downcast. 'Y'all heard her song. She's done with me.'

Artie pulled a ' _you stupid.'_ face and looked his classmate up and down.

'Dude, she's not done with you.' Puck contradicted, his hands clasped in front of him as he leaned forward into the table. 'She's like, thinking… or something. Sometimes chicks just need space.'

'Right.' Quinn agreed, leaning into Puck's shoulder. 'Except you keep treating her like she's got the plague and it's tearing her up.'

'She doesn't _look_ like she's torn up.' Sam muttered, thinking of Mercedes' ass in the jeans she was wearing today. She looked _gorgeous._ _No._ he stopped himself before he could get too far on _that_ particular train of thought. _Don't go there._

'She wouldn't show _you_ that, silly.' Tina chided gently and Mike nodded.

'She thinks you don't want her anymore, dude.'

'That's ridiculous!' Sam complained, his head shooting up, 'Of _course_ I want her! I came _back_ for her.'

'Then _tell_ her that!' Artie demanded. 'And make it _soon, ok_? Lunchtime is my _diva_ _time_ and you be messing with my flow, yo.'

Sam narrowed his eyes at his friend, the spark of jealousy flaring hot in his stomach.

'She's not _**your** …'_

 _'Guys!'_ Finn finally spoke up from where he'd been sitting quietly next to Sam. 'She's _all_ of ours. Mercedes belongs with us, and right now, you're kinda ruining that Sam.' Finn winced apologetically at the former quarterback.

'Fine.' Sam stood to leave, 'If I'd known that's how y'all felt, then I…'

' _Samuel Evans_ , sit your arse back down!' Rory commanded, much to the surprise of everyone else at the table. 'You're my mentor, remember?' He lilted, when Sam turned shocked eyes on him, 'Imagine how damaging it would be to my young, fragile mind to watch you give up on Mercedes now.'

Santana frowned and nodded her approval at the exchange student as Sam sighed and resumed his seat.

'I want her back too, you guys.' he admitted with a sigh as he scrubbed a frustrated hand over his eyes. 'But I don't know what to do anymore.'

'If I may?' Kurt volunteered delicately, swiveling sideways at the end of the table so he could cross his legs. 'Mercedes hit you with Whitney, and believe me I know that that's pretty tough to come back from, _but_ I may have a solution.'

The New Directions all leaned in as Kurt hastily outlined what he had in mind. Sam was silent as he listened, the corners of his mouth twitching as he relayed a vital piece of information that had the rest of the group clapping their hands in delight, already assured that their plan would work.

Do you want to explain to me _why_ we're sitting on the quad after school?' Mercedes demanded later that day. 'The place is deserted, and it's chilly out.' she pulled her jacket tighter around her and eyed her best friend's boyfriend warily.

' _Because…'_ Blaine explained, flashing her that puppy dog expression that he did so well, 'I've missed you, Mercedes. We speak less now than we did when I was at Dalton, and you've been sad.' Blaine pouted at her and Mercedes couldn't help but let a small smile escape. She really did like Blaine, he was a good guy, and he was good for Kurt too.

'But why _here?'_ Mercedes whined, 'We could talk at my house, and I just baked a batch of those Banana Nut Muffins you loved so much…'

'Really!?' For a moment Blaine forgot his mission as the prospect of Mercedes heavenly muffins was wafted in front of him, but he quickly shook it off. Mercedes was important to Kurt, and beyond that she was important to _him_ too. Muffins could wait.

'We'll go in a second, Mercy. I'm just waiting for something…'

'Waiting for what?' Mercedes asked, confused as to what, exactly, Blaine was expecting to happen in an empty school at quarter past five on a Friday night.

Blaine smiled at her in a way that made nerves kick up in the pit of her stomach, and that's when she heard it. The first chords being strummed on a guitar from somewhere up at the top of the bleachers. She squinted into the setting sun to see who was there, although from the way her heart had picked up in her chest she already knew.

Mercedes heard the sounds of a guitar being played somewhere close by, and she looked around for the source until a nudge from Blaine drew her attention to Sam making his way to the middle of the bleachers above her.

Quietly, Santana, Rachel, Quinn, Brittany and Tina all came and arranged themselves primly in a line to Sam's left and waited patiently as he started to sing, wordlessly at first until all at once the girls burst into movement, bobbing from side to side and snapping their fingers as they sang.

 _Doo-da-doop-oh! Doo-da-doo-da-doop-da-dah!_

She didn't know whether to laugh of cry as Sam began to sing, backed up by her girl friends as he launched into the song, concentration etched on his handsome face _. He was singing_ their _song._ It was cheesy as heck, but it had followed them around the whole summer they'd dated, and Mercedes had so many wonderful memories of hanging out with Sam by the lake and singing this song together as they trailed their hands lazily through the water. Could he really be singing it now? Even after all the hurt she'd put him through?

 _We were as one, babe,_

 _For a moment in time…_

 _And it seemed everlasting,_

 _That you would always be mine…_

 _Now you wanna be free_

 _So I'm letting you fly_

 _Cause I know in my heart, babe_

 ** _Our love will never die._**

Sam shot her a small smirk and a wink as he made his way down the bleachers towards her, and Mercedes couldn't stop the delighted little scrunch of her nose she gave in return. She felt lighter than she had in _weeks._ Sam was prepared to wait for her, and the knowledge took a huge load of her heart. Mercedes had been so scared that he would give up on her while she sorted through her feelings, and she had recurring nightmares where she was forced to watch him fall in love with someone else. Although she'd had trouble believing that Sam would do that, she'd needed to hear him _say_ it. But Sam hadn't said much of anything to her the past few weeks, and her doubts had started to get the better of her.

A hand flew to cover Mercedes' plump mouth as involuntary giggles spluttered forth from her. The glee boys all appeared at the top of the bleachers and made their way down to join the girls and flank Sam's right side.

 _You'll always be a part of me_

 _I'm part of you indefinitely_

 _Girl, don't you know you can't escape me_

 _Oh darling, cause you'll always be my baby._

The boys shuffled into a simple two step and snapped their fingers, looking like one of the old all-male Motown groups she's grown up watching as they sang backup to Sam's vocals.

He'd reached the bottom of the bleachers now, and he stood a few feet in front of her, his eyes steady on hers as he sang the next verse.

 _I ain't gonna cry, no_

 _And I won't beg you to stay_

 _You're determined to leave, girl_

 _And I will not get in your way_

 _But inevitably, you'll be back again_

 _Cause you know in your heart, Babe_

 _Our love will never end_

A look passed between them at that last line. Cocky Sam was making an appearance, and honestly Mercedes was glad to see him. The events of Valentine's Day seemed to have brought on Kicked Puppy Sam, and it was _definitely_ not a welcome appearance. Cocky Sam was good, Cocky Sam reminded her of stolen kisses in his truck as they sat parked in her driveway. Cocky Sam was the guy she'd first met on the tilt-a-whirl all those months ago…

 _I know that you'll be back, girl_

 _When your days and your nights get a little bit colder._

 _I know that you'll be right back, baby._ The girls sang.

 _Oh baby, believe me, it's only a matter of time._

Mercedes was on the edge of her seat as Sam flawlessly hit the big note at the end of the bridge, her pride in him momentarily distracting her from the fact that _more_ people seemed to have gathered on the bleachers, and they were in _blazers._

The New Directions and The Warblers joined together for the final chorus and coda as Sam continued to sing over them, his eyes locked on her as he pressed forward every word.

 _You and I will_ _ **always**_ _be._ He assured her, _no way you're ever gonna shake me._

When the song was over Blaine burst into rapturous applause and Mercedes joined him, clapping away her dazedness as the reality of what had just happened washed over her. In all honesty, she had forgotten Blaine was there. She'd forgotten _anyone_ was there other than Sam, and he stood before her now, breathless and anxious as he waited for her to say something.

Mercedes had a lot to say, a whole _lifetime_ of things to say, but she couldn't seem to find the words. She stood on suddenly shaky legs and closed the small distance between her and Sam with a few strides, stopping just in front of him to blink up into his questioning green eyes.

'Always Be My Baby?' She asked when she'd finally found her voice and Sam nodded, a nervous grin stretched across his face.

'Yeah.' he ran a shaky hand through his hair and licked his lips, wondering if Kurt was right about him needing to say what he was about to.

'Because you _will_ , Mercedes. I'm sorry if I've made you doubt that these past few weeks… but you need to know that I'm not going anywhere. You got me, babe, for life. _No way you're ever gonna shake me.'_ he quipped, and he and Mercedes chuckled briefly, neither realising that they were edging closer to each other.

'And you can have time, _lots_ of time, if you want.' Sam added hastily, trying not to think about how pretty her mouth looked with her lipgloss glinting in the fading sunlight. _Now was not the time for kisses,_ he reminded himself firmly

'I just wanted you to know that when you're done… with taking your time, which I'm not rushing you to do, by the way.' he could sense himself getting flustered as Mercedes blinked he big doe eyes up at him. 'that I'll be here. Because… because I _love you_ , Mercedes, and that's not going to change.' he finished, feeling like he'd just run a marathon as he took a deep breath and looked down at her. He vaguely thought he could hear someone sniffling, but his attention was fully focused on the next words that would come out of Mercedes' perfect cupid's bow lips.

There was the tiniest of pauses before Mercedes carefully slid her arms around Sam's waist and pulled him into a hug.

'I love you too, Sam.' she told him, her head buried against his chest. 'And as soon as I figure out how to be the best person in love I can be, I _swear_ it'll be you I come back to.'

The grin spread across Sam's face like a sunrise as he hugged Mercedes to him.

'So… no more separate lunches?'

'No more separate lunches.' his almost-girlfriend confirmed.

Artie's whoop in the background reminded them both that they weren't alone, and the broke apart to acknowledge the rest of the group.

'You got The Warblers?' Mercedes asked, looking up at Sam as he slid an arm around her waist, not liking the feeling of being apart from her for so long.

'Actually, _Blaine_ got The Warblers.' he admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders. 'This whole thing was _kind of_ a team effort.'

Mercedes frowned slightly until she caught sight of Puck body popping with Santana, Mike, Artie, Tina and Brittany to delighted choruses of 'We got our diiiiiva back! We got our diiiiiiva back!'

The non-couple watched them with identical expressions before turning to each other.

'They do realise we're not _actually_ together yet, right?' Mercedes asked, her tone inquisitive as she continued to watch her friends act like fools.

Sam shrugged, the smile refusing to leave his face even as he recognised the truth in what the girl at his side was saying.

'I don't think they care.' he theorised as he laced his fingers through hers for what felt like the first time in forever. He gave her hand a brief squeeze before he let it go again. 'They know what I know, babe. _It's only a matter of time._ '


	8. Leopard Print

'I don't like it.' Sam complained, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Mercedes flutter around him getting ready to go out.

Mercedes had agreed when he'd called to see if he could come over for a while, but she'd warned him that he wouldn't be able to stay long as she was going out with a friend later that evening. That had been fine by Sam, he'd just wanted to stop by to see her before he went home after work anyway, and he knew he'd get to see her in school tomorrow so he wasn't _that_ concerned. Until she'd _oh so casually_ let slip that it was Puck she was hanging out with. _Puck,_ with his roguish charm and wandering hands… _alone…_ with _his_ woman. No. Way.

'You were fine with it when you thought I was hanging out with Tina.' Mercedes pointed out as she ran her make up brush lightly over her cheekbones.

 _Why was she putting on make up? Puck didn't deserve make up!_

'That's because you don't have _romantic history_ with Tina.' Sam countered through clenched jaws. He could already see Puck's hands gravitating towards Mercedes' ass without him there to put the brakes on.

Mercedes halted her brushstrokes and turned to face Sam, a single eyebrow raised.

' _And how would you know that I don't have romantic history with Tina?'_ she asked pointedly. Sam opened his mouth to answer before the visuals of what she was suggesting hit him with full force.

'You… and _T-Tina?'_ he spluttered, trying not to imagine what that might be like as a scarlet blush spread up his cheeks.

'Oh my gosh, you're totally visualising it right now, aren't you?' Mercedes demanded, taking in his bright red face and inability to meet her eyes.

'Well you can stop.' she informed him evenly as she resumed her brushstrokes.

'I was never in a relationship with Tina. I've only ever been with you.' she admitted, causing a small satisfied smile to spread over Sam's face as he leaned against the doorframe to watch her, 'and Puck.' she added, wiping his smile off in an instant.

'Come here.' Sam said as soon as Mercedes was done applying her make up, catching her in his arms as she got up to grab her phone from her bedside table, pulling her into a hot, deep kiss.

'Sam!' she protested, pushing at his chest with the heel of her hand once they'd come up for air, 'I'm going to be late!'

'Don't care.' Sam growled as he leaned down to kiss her again, turning her so she was backed against the wall and bracing himself against it. His tongue met hers in searing heat as she melted into him, her body eliciting little moans of pleasure as his lips moved against hers. Sam smiled against her mouth, enjoying the knowledge that he had caused this reaction as he slid a hand across the place where her shirt had ridden up to reveal an expanse of smooth, cocoa coloured skin.

Sam worked his way from Mercedes' mouth to her ear, grazing her earlobe with his teeth before turning his attention to the spot just below it, sucking and nibbling his way down the column of her throat as her breath panted soft and heavy in his ear, every heated exhale causing his hair to rifle slightly with the movement.

Sam focused on the exquisite dip where Mercedes' neck met her shoulders, lathing the spot with his tongue, sucking and kissing the spot as Mercedes' hands grabbed at the back of his shirt, the fabric balling in her fists. When he was done, Sam found another spot that was just begging for an introduction to his lips, repeating the process up to Mercedes' mouth again where he kissed her so thoroughly she stood blinking dazedly up at him for a few seconds after their lips had parted with a soft pop.

'You're gonna be late.' he reminded her when she still hadn't said anything a moment later. He reached over to her nightstand and grabbed her phone for her, sliding it into her hand before he turned her around and gave her a gentle push in the direction of her bedroom door.

Sam followed her out of the house, making sure all the doors were locked before he unlocked her car door for her and held it as she got in. He really wasn't all that upset about Puck now, he thought to himself as he made his way to his own car and got behind the wheel.

Mercedes gave him a wave as she pulled out of the driveway and he waved happily back, humming a tune under his breath as he set off for the Hudson-Hummell house.

Mercedes was glad Sam had gotten over his jealous mood when he had. Puck was a friend, and Sam must have known that nothing would ever happen between them, yet he'd _still_ acted like a jealous fool the _instant_ the other boy's name had been mentioned. _Up until that_ _ **kiss,**_ Mercedes thought, her eyes glazing over as she turned off her engine and retrieved her purse. _Where had_ that _come from,_ she wondered idly, touching a finger to her lips at the memory. She really didn't _care_ where it came from, she decided, _just as long as they could go there_ _ **again.**_

Out of habit, Mercedes pulled down the visor above her seat and checked her reflection in the mirror, freezing as soon as she caught sight of herself. _Now_ she knew why Sam had dropped his jealousy so quickly. **_Now_** she knew.

'Oh _hell to the no!_ That sonofa…' Mercedes hissed under her breath as she stared at the trail of hickeys Sam had left on her neck. Those, coupled with the tell-tale swell of her lips, would leave Puck in _no doubt_ as to what she'd been doing before she got there. No wonder Sam had looked so goddamned _smug_. He'd marked his territory and then had the nerve to send her off with a smile and a wave!

Sam hopped out of his truck at the double H house with a spring in his step. Mercedes Jones was _his_ girl, and if Puck didn't know that already, then _he was gonna learn today._


	9. Purple Rain

'Sam?'

Mercedes wasn't sure he'd heard her properly, sometimes their Skype connection could be a little rocky, but she didn't want to repeat herself just in case he _had_ heard and was taking the time to process. She hadn't been exactly sure how to broach the subject, Sam had been gone for a month and a half now, and they'd been trying in vain to pretend that being 'just friends' was enough for both of them. But it wasn't - not really - and they both knew it. Sam had contented himself with the belief that they'd find a way to be together again as soon as high school was done, but Mercedes had found a different way to cope and it wasn't exactly compatible with Sam's. Sam really wanted to believe that, that was _all_ it was - a coping method - but his heart had gone into full-blown meltdown as soon as the words were out.

'A guy asked me out today.' she'd told him after a few minutes of idle chat, and Sam had felt his blood run cold. He'd played it off, keeping his voice calm as he answered, trying not to let it show that he hated the thought of her with anyone else with a burning passion.

'Oh yeah?' he'd asked, feigning unconcern. 'What did you say?'

Mercedes had stared at him through the camera on her laptop, trying to read the truth on a face that was far too pixellated to be of any real use.

'I… told him I had to think about it.' she admitted tentatively, not sure if Sam was just playing it cool or if he really didn't care.

'Oh?' Sam fiddled with a pencil that he'd left lying out on his desk as he answered, trying hard not to look at her.

'Yeah…' Mercedes swallowed, 'I wanted to talk to you about it first.'

That made Sam look up, and not for the first time he wished that he had a better camera than the crappy one he'd barely been able to afford.

She'd wanted to ask him how he felt about her dating again, dating _someone else_. How did she _think_ he'd feel? Like throwing a parade? He felt crappy, and the world felt crappier too.

'It's just a date, right?' Sam said breezily, 'It's not like you're going to marry the guy.' _Because you're going to marry me,_ he added silently.

'Yeah. It's just a date, but… I thought…' Mercedes trailed off, uncertain of what to say, realising that she probably shouldn't say anything at all. 'Never mind.'

Sam's hands clenched and unclenched in front of him, just below the camera where Mercedes couldn't see, but he shrugged and propped an elbow up on the desk, bringing him ever so slightly closer to the camera. He could see the disappointment and sadness on Mercedes' face and he felt lousy for it. She was _four hours_ away in a different state and yet he could still feel her pain as if she were sitting next to him. _But if she were sitting next to him she wouldn't_ _ **be**_ _in pain_ , he reasoned, _neither of them would._ Sam stopped himself from tracing her face on the screen in front of him at the last minute, glad that she'd been looking away from the camera at that moment and missed the sentimental gesture. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was still long - too long, really- but it reminded him of Mercedes like this. He could run his hands through it and pretend like his hands were hers, and if he closed his eyes he could feel her again. _Just for a minute._

'We're not together anymore, Cede.' Sam reminded her, the girl he was still in love with. 'I don't have authority in your life now.'

'But you're my friend, Sam. Right?' she countered, 'We're supposed to be _trying_.' she reminded him softly.

She was right, that was part of their agreement when he'd left for Kentucky: they'd break up, but they'd stay friends. _He was such a douche, had he honestly thought he could handle that?_

'I _am_ trying, Cede!'

He hadn't meant to snap at her, but _god_ , the thought of someone else touching her, _kissing_ her was making him feel sick.

'Maybe this was a mistake.'

Mercedes eyes widened as she realised what he'd said and she bit her lip, trying to figure out how to undo this _mess._ She didn't want Sam out of her life, but she couldn't be his girlfriend anymore either. They'd both agreed that that didn't make sense, but now they were stuck in this weird no-man's land between being together and being friends, and they didn't seem to be managing either.

'I'll tell him no.'

'No, Mercedes, that's _not_ what I meant.'

'I _know_ it isn't what you meant.' Mercedes snapped back, her frustration making itself known. 'But what else can I do, Sam? If it's him or you then I'll choose you. You _know_ that.'

He _did_ know that, and that was part of the problem. Mercedes wasn't going to be happy waiting around for some poor kid who lived four hours away, and she deserved so much _better_ than that. He'd just wanted to stay friends with her, and yet all he seemed to be doing was holding her back.

'But _why,_ Cede?' he prompted, his voice quiet and sad, 'I don't have a _thing_ to offer you that the guys in Lima don't have. You deserve someone who can be there for you. The way I _can't_ be.'

Mercedes felt the tears sitting heavy in the back of her throat and refused to let them surface. She'd already lost him to Kentucky once, why did it hurt so much the second time?

'You're _you.'_ Mercedes argued, 'that's all I want or _need_ you to be.'

Sam sighed, hating that he was having to do the _one thing_ that he had _never_ wanted to do, but his girl deserved the best, and right now that wasn't him. He refused to be the guy standing in the way of her happiness. He loved her too much for that.

'Cede J,' he began, using his nickname for her, you know I'm crazy about you, but…'

'Then maybe we can try and make this work.' Mercedes interrupted, knowing that she was edging dangerously close to sounding desperate, but unable to bring herself to care.

'We can see each other on the weekends. I can drive up there after school on Fridays, I know my parents won't go for it at _first_ , but I can…'

'Mercedes, _stop.'_ Sam commanded, rubbing a tired hand over his face as he leaned earnestly towards her image on his computer screen.

'Mercy, you're not happy. And I'm not helping.'

'I'm not happy because you're not here.' Mercedes explained carefully, 'I'll be happier when I can see you.'

'But that's not going to happen for at _least_ a year, babe.'

'I can handle it.'

'I _can't.'_ Sam sighed again, wishing this weren't so goddamned _hard._

 _'_ I think maybe it might be better if we made a fresh start of it, babe. Had a clean break.'

A tear spilled over his cheek but Sam let it lie, he mentally took back what he'd said about his webcam. The quality wasn't great, but at least it meant that Mercedes wouldn't know he was crying. He needed to be strong for her, even if it was fucking _killing_ him.

'Is… is that what you want?' She sounded _awful_ , her voice was all thick and choked in a way that he'd never heard it, and never _wanted_ to hear it again. Sam's heart twisted at the knowledge that it was _him_ who was making her sound like that, but he kept going, convinced that what he was doing was in her best interests.

'Come on, Cede J.' he coaxed with a soft smile into the camera, 'None of that. This is a good thing for you, you can start fresh with date guy.'

Sam tried to smile, but he had a feeling that she wasn't convinced.

'Shane.' Mercedes informed him with a sniff, 'His name is Shane, but it's just a date…' she added weakly.

'It's a _new start_.' Sam corrected, 'and it's so much better than I can offer you right now. I could never compete with a guy who's actually _there.'_

 _'_ You'd sweep the board.' Mercedes insisted, a hint of the diva creeping in behind the unshed tears.

'Well, hold that thought, little darlin'.' Sam quipped, more tears sliding down his cheeks to join the first on his shirt. 'Don't fall in love with this guy, cause I'm gonna be back for you, and we're going to have our _own_ fresh start _together_ , you hear?'

Mercedes nodded and tipped him a mock salute.

'Aye, aye Captain.'

' _Good_.'

Sam managed a watery smile as he took in the sight of her, trying to etch every part of her onto his memory without tainting it with the misery of the moment.

'I'll be seeing you, Cede.' he promised as he went to disconnect the call for the last time. He'd see her again, even if he had no idea _when_ that might be.

Mercedes honoured him with one last dazzling smile as she memorised the handsome face of the boy she loved, but hadn't told, as she hovered the cursor over the end call button.

'See you, Sam.' she agreed, at the last minute kissing the pads of her fingers and pressing them to computer screen.

He knew that thinking about it would only make the pain he was feeling worse, but Sam was certain that he'd heard Mercedes whisper to him in Na'vi just before the screen had gone dark.

 _'Oel ngati kameie.'_

I love you.

 _Shit._


	10. Non-Disney Magic

'And of course, _I_ will take the coveted closing slot.' Rachel was saying snootily to Mercedes, flicking her thick chestnut hair over her shoulder with more than a hint of dramatic flair.

The girl had _somehow_ managing to convince herself that she was 'neglected' and therefore deserved the closing spot of their _Night of Neglect_ fundraising concert, although Sam couldn't see in what way, shape or form the brunette could _ever_ be considered overlooked. In his mind, Rachel Berry was the exact _opposite_ of neglected. He was beginning to feel over-exposed and he hadn't been around anywhere _near_ as long as the others had.

 _That girl would make a_ **great** _spin artist._ Sam thought to himself as he quietly watched Rachel explain her rationale from the other side of the room. If there was a way to make complete bull sound believable, Rachel would find it.

Sometimes Sam wished he could pick Rachel up and carry her off into a different room like he sometimes had to do with Santana. The trouble was that while he only had to do that occasionally with the feisty cheerleader, he knew he'd be tempted to do it _all the time_ with Rachel.

He'd found himself thinking that a _lot_ lately, mainly because he'd noticed that a lot of Rachel's venom seemed to be spewed in Mercedes' direction. Mercedes liked to act like she was a diva, but Sam wasn't buying it. He'd known a lot of kids like that in his old boarding school, kids who would put on the confidence act to pretend like they weren't sad, or lonely or homesick or hurt. Sure, Sam had gone to school with guys, but he figured that the principle was the same. He hadn't known Mercedes long enough to know exactly _what_ it was she was trying to keep hidden, but he still knew that it was there, the same way that he knew that her mask was beginning to slip.

Sam could never understand how no one else seemed to recognise that something was up with the self-proclaimed 'diva', how no one seemed to notice the way her eyes would drop to the ground and her shoulders would stiffen after Rachel said something to her, or Mr. Schue shot down another request for a solo with some half-assed excuse.

Sometimes he wanted to carry Mr Schue off into a different room too.

Sam didn't pretend that he knew Mercedes inside out or anything, he knew that he didn't, but he had his hunches about her. That was why after glee club was over he took a chance and ran to catch up with her in the hallway as she collected her things from her locker.

'Rachel's a Disney Princess.' he told her, trying to look casual as he leaned against the locker next to her. He was starting to worry that his hunch was wrong, especially when she looked up at him with confusion etched on her smooth brown features.

'Huh?'

'Rachel's a Disney Princess.' Sam repeated, continuing before his confidence failed him. 'You know, not everybody knows her name, but pretty much _everyone_ has heard her voice.'

Mercedes laughed and then looked about her guiltily, making sure that the girl wasn't lurking behind the lockers or something.

'Yeah.' she agreed with a sigh, closing her locker and shrugging her bag onto her shoulder. 'But people still wanna hear those Disney girls sing, even if they've heard them a million times before.'

'Yeah…' Sam hedged, worrying that he'd already set the wrong tone. 'But they _aren't_ neglected.'

He fell into step with her as they headed towards the parking lot.

'You know who my favourite animated princess is?'

Mercedes gave him a look as if wondering why he'd suddenly taken an interest in her.

'Who?' she asked finally, curiosity getting the better of her.

' _Anastasia._ '

Mercedes raised an eyebrow at him but he hastily continued.

'First of all, she wasn't Disney. Second, she had a _way_ cooler villain, and third, she's like _really_ underrated even though she had better songs and a cooler attitude.'

Sam pushed open the door to the parking lot and held it for her as she stepped through, falling easily into step with her again as they walked towards their cars.

'Anastasia was my favourite too,' Mercedes admitted with a shy smile, 'Don't tell Puck, he's hardcore Disney all the way.'

Sam nodded, unperturbed as he accepted Mercedes' advice.

'I don't mean to be rude,' Mercedes began, trying to figure out how best to phrase her question, 'but I don't really see why you're bringing this up with me.'

 _Oh._ She thought once the words were out of her mouth, _that hadn't sounded as good out loud as it had in her head._

Sam slowed as they neared their cars, parked only two spots apart in the corner of the lot and bit the inside of his cheek, knowing that he was probably going to sound like a huge dork no matter _how_ he worded his next sentiment.

'Because _you're Anastasia_ , Mercedes.' he told her feeling self-conscious, 'You may not be as famous or as instantly recognisable, but you're _better._ ' he smiled down at her, his eyes entreating as he tried to get her to believe the truth in his words. Stopping short as the sudden image of a murderous Rachel Berry popped into his mind. 'Oh God, please don't tell her I said that.' he added, the plea evident in his voice. It probably wasn't cool to be scared of a girl, but sometimes Rachel got this psychotic glint in her eye…

'I won't tell her.' Mercedes promised, looking up at him with an unreadable expression. 'Why are you telling me this?' she asked him quietly after a moment, her head angled up at him as she tried to read his face. Sam grinned at her, pulling his keys out of his pocket and backing away to his truck.

'Because _Anastasia_ is my favourite movie, Mercedes.'

He turned and unlocked his car door, yanking it open as Mercedes stared thoughtfully at his back.

'But what does that _mean?'_ she asked as he was about to climb into the cab, and he paused with one foot still on the ground to turn back to her.

'Think about it.' he suggested as he hauled himself into the car, the door still open as he added, 'it'll come to you.'

Mercedes seemed to be thinking about it as she unlocked her own car and climbed in, her brow furrowed as she thought about what he'd said. Sam smirked to himself as he watched her, shutting his own door as he fastened his seatbelt and rolled over the engine.

Mercedes gave him a confused wave as she drove out of the parking lot and Sam peeled out after her, the smirk still firmly in place as he drove home. Mercedes Jones was his favourite alright, and one day she was going to figure that out.


	11. Doo-Wap and Scooby Snax

'Pay up.'

Sam pouted and turned his eyes to the laden Kraft services table.

'Could I not do it when there are fewer people around?' he asked in a voice that sounded dangerously close to a whine. Mercedes shook her head.

'Nope. A bet's a bet. _Pay up, Hearthrob_.'

Sam sighed and put down the bagel he'd just picked out for lunch to hold his hand out for Mercedes' iPod.

' _Fine_. Hand it over.'

Mercedes slapped the small, silver device into Sam's hand with a kind of sick glee, her eyes sparkling as she watched him scroll through its contents until he found something he liked.

'Ok.' he said after a minute, but instead of placing it back into her expectantly held out palm, Sam held the device close to his chest and went to go plug it into the large speaker system nearby that was rigged up to relay the director's instructions to the actors.

Mercedes raised an amused eyebrow as she watched him, and Sam smirked back at her.

'Do you want me to announce you or anything?' she asked him coyly, but Sam just shook his head.

'You just sit pretty, _Little Star_.' he told her primly, using the nickname she'd earned from the first read through on the movie set. It had started off as the less than friendly 'Little Screen Star', as Mercedes was primarily a TV actress making the crossover into mainstream movies by joining the established cast of a superhero movie. The rest of the cast had gently hazed her at the beginning, but now it was the last day of shooting and they'd all learned to treat Mercedes like one of the team.

Except for Sam. For some reason, her blond co-star was the only one that still seemed a little uncomfortable with Mercedes at times. He was generally fine once he warmed up to a conversation, but there were still moments when she'd talk to him and he'd just stare at her for a few seconds before he'd respond.

As they'd neared the end of the shoot, it had somehow gotten back to the cast that one of Mercedes' _many_ past jobs had been as a professional sing-a-gram, and Sam had shyly suggested that she might serenade them all on the last day of filming. Hoping to get Sam out of his shell a little bit, Mercedes had proposed a bet instead. She'd told him that if he could prove himself a better shot than her during their firearms training, then she'd sing for the entire cast and crew, but if _she_ beat _him,_ then Sam would have to do it.

Sam had scoffed and in a rare moment of cockiness assured her that he would win, being as he was a 'traditional Southern man' and had already gone through the training once before for the previous movie. The look of open mouthed shock on his face when Mercedes' paper silhouette had come back with the four bullet holes clustered so tightly in the centre that they'd almost formed a single hole had kept a smile on Mercedes' face for two whole days. They'd all had their fun with her during the first few weeks of filming, and as far as she was concerned it was time for her to get a little payback.

Sam hit "play" on the iPod and the music started good and loud over the speakers as, one by one, various cast and crew members turned to look at what the cause of the commotion might be. Sam ignored them all, his eyes steady on Mercedes' as he started to sing the cheesy pop song.

' _Oooh! Yeah-eh-eh-eh-eh- eyyyy! Wishin' on a fallin' sta-har_ …'

Mercedes' eyes widened momentarily at Sam's song choice, and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing outright when Sam affected his best Zoolander-style pout and threw himself into some pretty decent old school boyband moves.

 _'Never had to be on the movie screen, to be the leading lady in all my dreams!'_

Sam had quite the audience now, but it was like he was performing purely for Mercedes benefit. He didn't even blink when Mike Chang, one of the stunt co-ordinators on the movie, jumped in and somehow knew the exact same choreography Sam was doing.

 _'Shooby-doo-wap and scooby snax!'_ Mike harmonised and Mercedes' hands came up automatically to clap out her delight.

' _I met a fly girl and I can't re-lax, the only problem is she's a movie star!'_

Sam lifted an arm to point at Mercedes as she practically squawked with laughter.

 _'Whoa… My friends,'_

 _'They won't believe me!'_

Mercedes definitely began to smell a rat when one of her co-stars, a guy name Noah Puckerman, skipped out from behind her and joined in on Sam's other side, perfectly in sync with the other two as he sang the next line. The three of them did a little bounce and step combo before sliding across the little triangle they'd formed to switch places.

 _'If they could only see me!'_

Sam tipped a wink in Mercedes direction, and she threw back her head in laughter at the spectacle.

 _'At the risk of sounding cheesy,'_ Mike and Puck sang.

 _'I think I fell for the girl on TV!'_

Cheers went up from the crowd when Kurt, the make-up guy, and even Finn, their sound man, jumped in for the next chorus, and whoops went up from the rest of the crew when all five of them nailed the choreography and harmonised perfectly.

Mercedes finally gave in to the full blown giggles that had been threatening from the first bars of the song when the movie's director, Artie Abrams, wheeled himself out from behind the camera and into the fray to take a surprisingly decent turn at the frankly horrific rap verse. Sam helped him out by adding helpful 'yeah,' and 'come on' adlibs in the background as the five of them continued dancing while Artie worked the crowd out in front.

The group did some more of their cheesy 90s boyband choreo as the song came to a close and quickly scooted back into the middle to fix their best soulful expressions into the middle distance as Sam sang the final line.

' _Wishin', wishin' away…'_

There was a huge roar of applause as the onlookers all clapped for the makeshift boyband and Mercedes cupped her hands to her mouth to amplify her whoops.

Artie tossed his fringe out of his eyes and gratefully accepted the megaphone he was handed by one of his assistants.

'That's a wrap on our _heroes,_ Everybody! _'_ Artie grinned at them all, as the crew applauded again. 'Thank y'all so much for your incredibly hard work, and I'll see you bitches at the wrap party!'

He handed the megaphone off to his assistant again and wheeled over to Sam, who was standing a little ways away, slightly out of breath with his eyes still on Mercedes.

'And _you_ ,' Artie added quietly, 'Just ask her _out_ already, yo! I'm pretty sure the sexual tension that's been cracklin' between the two of you has made _me_ pregnant.' Artie gave Sam a small shove of encouragement towards where Mercedes was standing, and the actor stumbled a little before he made his way over to her.

'So…' he said when he'd finally reached her, lifting a hand to rub nervously at the back of his neck. 'Um…'

'You'd make a pretty good boyband member.' Mercedes told Sam carefully, a bright smile lighting up her face as she looked up at him. 'I think you'd need better material though.'

Sam blushed and rubbed at his neck some more.

'The song seemed… apt.'

Mercedes head tipped to one side as she searched his face for any sign of teasing. 'You think you fell for the girl on tv?' she asked carefully, and Sam's blush crept even higher up his cheeks.

'We kind of all did.' he admitted with a shrug. 'The guys all heard I was going to serenade you and they all sort of… muscled their way in, uninvited.' Sam looked mildly peeved at that and Mercedes giggled at the put out expression on his face and poked gently at his firm chest.

'Well, I enjoyed it.'

Sam's face brightened considerably, 'You did? Well, um, I was actually going to ask you… uh… That is to say… seeing as we're finished with the shoot now…' Sam stammered out, his words getting jumbled as he tried to get his meaning across.

'Hey you guys!' Finn's large palm slapped cheerfully at Sam's back unannounced, stopping the blond's sentence dead in his tracks, but Finn didn't seem to notice. He'd turned his bright, enthusiastic eyes to Mercedes and a huge grin split his face as he began to shoot his questions at her.

'So, Sam finally asked you out, huh? He's been working up the nerve for _weeks_ now, and all the guys have just been on him to ask you, but he just kept going on and on about keeping things "professional"'

Finn made the quote marks with his fingers as he turned to look briefly at Sam. He'd already turned back to Mercedes before he could catch Sam's silent plea to _stop talking._

 _'_ I gotta say,' Finn went on happily, 'I'm _not_ gonna miss all those conversations we had to have about you all the time. I swear, we barely talked about anything else!' Finn nudged one of his large elbows into Sam's ribs with a wink and tried to copy Sam's slight southern drawl, but it just ended up sounding like a cross between John Wayne and Dolly Parton.

'Mercedes is so _beautiful_.' Finn mimicked. 'Mercedes is so funny, and _talented_ , and kind, and smart, and _weirdly good with firearms_ … Do you think she'd be interested in me? Do you think she'd go out with me if I asked her?' Finn let out a short laugh. 'I guess we have our answer, huh?! Now that you've said yes, I mean.'

The tall brunette grinned down at them both, looking for all intents and purposes, like a large, dopey puppy. Sam sighed and rubbed a hand across his forehead in exasperation as he carefully avoided the gaze Mercedes had trained on him.

'I actually hadn't asked her yet, man.'

Finn's face contorted into a completely ridiculous ' _uh oh'_ face and he slowly began to pantomime tiptoeing away from the potential couple with the expression still frozen on his face.

'Carry on.' he whispered loudly when he was a few feet away. 'I was _never here_!'

He waved his hands in front of him as if that would somehow erase the past few minutes and his spectacular verbal diarrhoea before quickly disappearing off in the opposite direction.

Sam let out a deep sigh as he watched Finn's retreating back and turned back to Mercedes.

'So, um, I was wondering if…'

'I'd go out with you?' Mercedes supplied, the smile dancing in her eyes as Sam nodded shyly.

'Well, _yeah_ …'

Mercedes grinned and leaned in to place a soft, gentle kiss on Sam's lips.

'Honey, I thought you'd _never_ ask.'


	12. Long Distance

'Hey Scotty!'

Mercedes smiled at the technician in the otherwise deserted station. 'How're you doing?'

The dark-haired man shoved his glasses up on his nose and shrugged.

'As ok as I can be, considering I'm grounded.' Mercedes laughed and the man cocked an apologetic half smile at her.

'Don't let Saoirse catch you saying that!' the woman warned, dropping a hand to the man's shoulder as she squeezed past him to sit at a terminal. 'Don't worry, I know it sucks but it'll all seem worth it when the baby's born.'

Scotty nodded and ran a hand through his hair, being careful not to mess up his perfectly straight side parting.

'Yeah, I know.' the technician sighed. 'Sam said the same thing earlier. Told me watching Leia being born was better than seeing the Earth for the first time.'

Mercedes smiled at the sentiment, knowing that Sam would have been completely earnest when he mentioned them. 'And coming from Sam that's saying something.' The dark-haired woman smiled at her companion. 'When did you speak to him?'

Scotty checked his watch, 'Couple of hours ago, just a routine check in, nothing to worry about.'

Mercedes nodded, having already assumed as much, and picked up the headset, shooting Scotty a friendly wink before she positioned the large headphones over her ears.

The screen on the terminal in front of her went static-y for a minute, and then suddenly there was Sam's face, smiling at her from thousands of miles away.

'Hey Baby!'

Sam's voice was at once too loud and too quiet, like he was speaking to her on a megaphone from inside a sealed room. Mercedes felt the tears spring to her eyes as she reached out a hand to touch Sam's face on the terminal.

'Hi Sweetheart. How's space treating you?'

Sam smiled as he traced his wife's features through the screen on the space shuttle terminal. He loved his job, _loved_ it, but being away from his family was definitely the hardest part.

'You know, no Goa'uld, Klingons or Stormtroopers yet, so I think we're doing ok.'

They'd say the same thing every time they got to speak like this, and it helped knowing that the Sam was still the same dorky dreamer that Mercedes had married seven years earlier.

'How's Leia?' Sam asked, concern wrinkling his brow as he thought about his only daughter. He hated that he was missing her growing up, but the work he was doing on the shuttle was potentially groundbreaking, and could mean big things for the future of humanity.

Mercedes sighed, 'She's doing ok.' she informed her husband. 'Her teacher called me in the other day because Leia kept telling the other kids that her dad was visiting heaven, and Mrs. Mayweather wanted to put her in grief counselling because right afterwards Leia would announce that you were coming back soon.'

Mercedes tried not to laugh at the memory. The teacher had been so shocked when Mercedes had told her that Sam wasn't dead and that yes, he actually would, in fact, be coming back soon.

'Oh God,' Sam started to laugh, the sound warm and inviting through Mercedes' headphones. 'I think this whole astronaut gig is still a bit too complicated for our little starbug.'

Mercedes smiled, her mind on her three year old daughter as she nodded. 'I think you might be right there, Stardust.'

'Speaking of stars…' Sam grinned and Mercedes' heart did a little somersault in her chest. All that distance between them and he could still have that effect on her.

'I named another star after you today.' Sam grinned, and then glowered at someone out of range of the camera. 'At least I _tried,_ John here vetoed it.'

A bald, smiling head suddenly appeared in front of the terminal and waved at Mercedes.

'Hi John.' Mercedes chuckled out, giving he husband's crewmate a wave of her own. 'Keep up the good work!'

John laughed and nodded before disappearing again and Sam pouted at her.

'It was a _really cool_ star.' he complained, and Mercedes felt a rush of affection for him.

'I'm sure it was, handsome, but you can't go around naming half the galaxy 'Mercedes'.

'I wasn't!' Sam protested quickly, leaning forward ready to defend himself. 'There's a Leia, a Lei-Lei, and a Princess. And a Death.' He broke off to give a small chuckle. 'The guys and I all thought that one was funny.' he laughed again, 'There's an actual Death Star! Anyway, other than that there's only _one_ Mercedes star.' Sam insisted, 'it's just that there's also a Cedes, a Mercy, a Merce and an MJ. Plus MissJones and the…'

Mercedes cut him off with a laugh and a shake of her head. 'Boy, you are _crazy.'_

Her husband stopped mid sentence and grinned at her down the screen, his green eyes twinkling as he drank in the sight of Mercedes' beautiful face smiling exasperatedly at him. 'Crazy about you.'

Mercedes gave him an exaggerated roll of her eyes, but the grin on her face when she did it told him that she was only pretending to complain. Sam started to say something else, but there was a sudden, loud juddering noise and Sam jolted sideways off screen before he could right himself and come back into view. On her screen Mercedes watched her husband turn in his seat to say something to one of the other astronauts on board the station with him before turning around again.

'Is everything ok, Sam?'

Usually Mercedes tried not to ask those sorts of questions - after all, what could she do except worry if he said no? But she'd heard the space station jolt through her headphones and it had shaken her.

'Um…' Sam turned back to the screen and ran a hand through his buzzcut hair. 'I… I don't know, Cede.' He turned around again and said something else to one of his crew mates before turning back to her looking tense.

'Listen, baby, who else is there with you?'

Mercedes scanned the room around her, but no one else had come in since they'd started talking. She could see the other three crew members rushing around behind Sam and felt her heartbeat start to accelerate in her chest.

'It's just me and Scotty here, Sam.'

'Scotty, alright.' Sam nodded to himself as if working something out in his brain. 'I need you to get Scotty over here, Cede, can you do that for me?'

There was another jolt on Sam's end and Mercedes nodded as Sam braced himself against the terminal, his biceps tensing as he fought to keep himself steady.

'Scotty!' Mercedes called, sliding a hand over the microphone of the headset. 'Something's… I think something's happening.'

For Sam's sake, she tried to keep the panic out of her voice as she got Scotty's attention, but when the dark-haired technician spoke to Sam for a few seconds and then immediately began dialling numbers in rapid succession on the phone next to his desk, Mercedes began to freak out a little bit.

'Sam, I'm worried. What's going-' There was another jolt and Mercedes' terminal went black. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, waiting for it to come back online, but when it didn't she started hitting it with the heel of her palm.

She could still hear Sam's voice on the other end, calling out to her over the screaming sound of metal bending and scraping against itself in the background, quickly followed by the rush of beeps and whistles of the station's systems working overtime.

'Sammy, baby, can you hear me?' Mercedes practically yelled into her headset, holding her breath until her husband's accented voice came through her headphones with an affirmative.

'It's ok, Cede.' he said, sounding reasonably calm. I think it was just a little blip, I'm pretty sure it's over now so don't worry about-'

A loud, piercing sound came through Mercedes' headphones, a series of clicks and whistles and snatches of what could almost be language that seemed to scream in Mercedes' ears. The noise was so high-pitched and so sudden that Mercedes couldn't even think to stop it. It felt like the sound was taking shape, hooking into her brain and crawling between the crevices. The longer the sound went on the more Mercedes felt like it had infiltrated every part of her body, she could feel it running underneath her skin. Eventually she managed to bat the headphones off her head, but by then the sound had ended, replaced by eerie silence and Sam's voice calling distantly for his wife with no reply. Mercedes managed to knock the headphones half off as she tried to get them off her head before she passed out.

The lights came back on on the the space shuttle a few moments later, and Sam allowed himself to let out a shaky breath of relief. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened, but Scotty told him that it looked like they'd wandered through a magnetic field that had thrown the station's systems off for a little while. From what everyone could tell they were past it now, and as freaked out as Sam had been in the few seconds when everything had gone dark, he knew that Mercedes had to be freaking out even more with not knowing what was going on.

'Well that was exciting!' Sam pasted an amused smile on his face as he turned back to the terminal, but it dropped when he caught sight of Mercedes slumped over in front of the screen. Sam could just about make out the thin trickle of blood coming out of her left nostril and dripping down her face. Her eyes were shut and she didn't stir, even after Sam called her name a bunch of times. He felt the dread come over him like a cold hand wrapped around his heart, and Sam wished that he wasn't so far away, that he was somewhere he could hold her and wake her and assure himself that Mercedes was alright, because from where he was sitting, thousands of miles away in space, his wife didn't _look_ alright. She looked dead.

'Scotty!' Sam roared down the microphone, hoping that the technician would hear him through the headphones dangling half off Mercedes' head. 'SCOTTY!'

The bespectacled technician's face filled Sam's terminal screen moments later and he watched as the dark haired man tried to revive Mercedes to no avail.

He disappeared for a few moments and returned again to speak directly to Sam via the microphone on Mercedes' headphones.

'She's breathing, Sam.' The grounded astronaut assured the worried blond. 'I called the paramedics and they're on their way. Don't worry, we're looking out for her.'

Sam nodded, his hands pressed against the terminal screen as the medical professionals came and tried to revive Mercedes, but they didn't have any better luck than Scotty had. He watched helplessly as they lifted his wife onto a stretcher and carried her out of sight.

'They're taking her to the hospital.' Scotty told him after they'd gone, sitting down in the seat Mercedes had recently vacated to explain what was going on. 'Don't worry, ok, Sam?' the man said again, 'She's in good hands. You just concentrate on getting back here safe and I promise I'll keep you posted.'

Sam nodded, not sure what else he could do as Scotty continued. 'I'll have Saoirse take Leia to your parents'.' The man attempted to look reassuring but the worry was etched too heavily on his face for that to really work.

'Nine days, Sam.' Scotty reminded the blond. 'Nine days and you'll be back on Terra Firma and able to see them both. She'll be fine.'

Sam nodded again, his throat closing up as he thought about how prone and lifeless Mercedes had looked.

'Nine days.' he finally managed, his voice hoarse. 'And you'll keep me posted?'

Scotty nodded so hard it looked like his glasses might fly off. It would have been funny if the situation hadn't been so grave.

'Promise.'

Two days, Seven hours, sixteen minutes and forty-three seconds. That was how long it had been since Sam had landed back on Earth.

Eleven days, twelve hours, four minutes and seventeen seconds - That was how long it had been since Mercedes had fallen into her coma.

Someone, probably Mercedes' mom, had called Quinn, and Sam thanked God that they had. The former McKinley cheerleader had hopped on the first plane to Florida and had been taking care of Leia ever since Mercedes had gone into hospital. Sam hadn't wanted his three year old to get too used to seeing her mom in a hospital bed, so he had Quinn take the toddler out as often as she could. He would be eternally grateful that his ex-girlfriend and Mercedes' soul sister had dropped everything to come through for his family, but all he could do right now was focus on the woman in the hospital bed and pray that she would get better soon.

The morning after a particularly rough night spent getting debriefed back at the Space Center, Sam had returned to Mercedes' hospital room to find his wife with bright red hair.

Pillarbox red. _Red,_ red. And while it did, somehow, work for her, red was _all_ Sam could see as he stormed out to find the hospital staff who had let this happen. He was _fuming._

'What the _hell_ kind of security do y'all have in place that someone can just barge in here and dye my wife's hair?' Sam demanded, his accent coming through thick with his rage. The idea of _anyone_ being close enough to Mercedes to perform that kind of prank on her… it made him sick.

'Mr. Evans. I understand that this is a distressing time, but I'm going to have to ask you to calm down.' The young nurse that was currently standing in front of Sam was well on his way to making him angrier, but Sam took a deep breath and did his best to keep his temper under control.

'I just don't understand how this could happen.'

'Ah, well, perhaps I could shed some light on that.' an older woman with steel grey hair wearing a lab coat approached them, and Sam recognised her as one of Mercedes' doctors.

'Please trust me when I say that you were not the only one alarmed by Mrs. Evans sudden change in appearance,' the doctor began, her English accent crisp and reassuring.

'I immediately had security pull up the surveillance footage from your wife's room just as soon as I noticed it myself.' The woman guided Sam to a small room filled with monitors and sat him in front of a computer screen. When he was seated, the woman hit a key on the keyboard and the footage from Mercedes' room began to play. No one appeared to enter or exit the room, but watching the footage on a time lapse, Sam could see Mercedes' hair getting lighter and lighter as the time went on, gradually darkening again until it appeared to crackle like flames on the screen.

'Fascinating isn't it?' The doctor said as she shut off the footage.

Sam stared at the blank screen in awe, not quite understanding how what he'd just seen could be real.

'It just… changed.'

'Yes, it did.' The woman clutched Mercedes' chart closer to her chest as she regarded Sam with interest. 'I took a sample of her hair afterwards and had it analysed. Not a _trace_ of hair dye.' The woman bit her lip in excitement. 'It is, for all intents and purposes, her natural hair colour. Isn't that simply remarkable?!'

Sam nodded, interested by the development, but unable to get too excited about it. Whichever way he looked at it, his wife was still lying in a coma on a hospital bed, and there was only so long Sam could keep Leia away. How much longer would Mercedes be in here? How long until 'visiting Mommy in the hospital' became routine?'

Sam scrubbed his hands over his face and blinked his blood shot eyes. He just really wanted his wife to be ok. Wanted it to the very depths of his soul.

'Do you…' Sam started, scared to ask the question he'd been dancing around since he arrived, but knowing that it needed to be asked.

'Do you think she'll wake up?'

The doctor's excited expression turned somber, and Sam felt his heart sink.

'That's… hard to say.' The doctor admitted finally. 'We're still not entirely sure what _caused_ her to fall into the coma, so it's hard to say when, or if, she'll eventually come out of it.' The woman reached out a hand to squeeze Sam's shoulder reassuringly as he dropped his head into his hands. 'I know it's not easy news to hear.' the woman continued, 'but don't give up hope.'

Sam closed his eyes and nodded, trying to push away the doubts that had slowly started to crowd his mind.

'Thank you, Doctor…'

'Doctor Crichlow.' The woman told him with a warm smile before holding the door open for Sam to exit the security room. 'We're all hoping she'll come out of this.' the doctor told him with another reassuring pat before she took off down the hallway, and Sam went back to keep vigil at his wife's bedside.

At exactly twelve days, zero hours, zero minutes, and zero seconds after she'd first fallen into her coma, Mercedes woke up.

Sam was asleep with his forehead against their joined hands next to her, and Mercedes studied the top of his head for a moment before lifting a hand to stroke against the soft fuzz of his hair. He woke up gradually, being a deep sleeper even without the stress of a wife in the hospital and a recent landing taking its toll. His green eyes blinked open and stared at her for a moment before he was able to register Mercedes' hand stroking rhythmically at his head and the fact that she was looking back at him. Tears sprang to his eyes as Sam clutched Mercedes' hand tighter, springing up to plant warm, relieved kisses all over her face until finally, he leaned down to press a gentle, delicious kiss onto the mouth of the woman who hadn't seen him in person for eight months.

Then a whole lot of things happened at once. The most notable being that it started raining.

Indoors.


	13. Signs

**'Mercedes Jones'**

 ****That's what the sign tacked up outside the God Squad meeting had read when Mercedes stepped out of the classroom after school. She'd been laughing about something with Quinn when Joe had lightly touched her arm and pointed out the sign.

 _Sam._

His name was the first thought that came into her head as she stared at the cardboard sign. Her tenacious ex had excused himself from the God Squad meeting that day with a cryptic excuse about having to go 'do something with Rory.' Mercedes had frowned when she'd found out, wanting to know more, but knowing that when she'd asked for space from Sam that had meant that it worked both ways.

 _Except_ … except she hadn't really wanted space from Sam for a while now. Actually, she'd wanted the _opposite_ of space with Sam, and her heart had dropped a little bit when Quinn had relayed Sam's message about missing the meeting. It had hurt that Sam had chosen to tell Quinn instead of her, but, as Mercedes reminded herself for the hundredth time that week, she wasn't his girlfriend anymore… _even if she_ wanted _to be._

Joe and Quinn both seemed to disappear in record time after they'd pointed out the first sign, and ever so subtly gestured further down the hall to where another one waited for her, propped up against a bank of lockers at an intersection. Mercedes had squinted at the sign, hoping that she could see what it said from where she was, but by the time she'd admitted that she didn't have Superman's superior eyesight she'd turned around to find that both Quinn and Joe were gone. Mercedes pulled down the board and carried it with her, examining it briefly before she folded her arms over it and hugged it against her body as she walked.

Mercedes made her way down the hall to read the other sign, her legs feeling like jelly as she approached the second board.

 **I wanted to ask you something…**

Mercedes frowned slightly, but scanned the rest of the hallway for a flash of the tell-tale white board and broad purple marker that categorised the signs she was following. _There!_ There was another a few feet away tacked above a water fountain. Mercedes approached it, a smile playing on her lips as she neared it.

 **But I'm shy :(**

 ****She smiled and peeled the board from the wall, sliding it in next to the first as she carried on her trail down the hall. The next one was pinned to Mr Martinez's door, and the Spanish teacher had waved and flashed his perfectly white teeth in a smile as she'd untacked it.

 **So let me start by saying that you look beautiful today :)**

Mercedes smiled to herself as she clutched the board to her chest, giving in to the quest as she made her way ever closer to the man she was sure was behind it all.

 **And that smile you're wearing right now is gorgeous.**

Mercedes' head swung around to see if anyone was watching her. She'd been wearing the biggest, goofiest grin ever since the butterflies in her stomach had told her that Sam was behind this. _Her_ Sam, who she was praying still saw himself that way.

 **But you know…**

and a little way further down the hall the next one read

 **We've got to stop meeting like this…**

Mercedes let out a short laugh as she untacked that board too, shaking her head at the dorky humour.

 **No really…**

Mercedes rounded a corner and saw what she presumed was the last sign pinned to the door of the choir room. She approached tentatively, suddenly afraid of what might await on the other side. What if it _wasn't_ Sam? What if he was off asking some other girl to prom and this was all some other guy's elaborate scheme? Mercedes' hand shook as she reached for the last sign, but she changed her mind at the last moment and reached for the door handle instead. She took a deep breath before she pushed open the door…

… and found Sam sitting on a chair inside the classroom, his hands clasped in front of him as he waited tensely for her to arrive. He jumped up immediately with a wide grin on his face, rubbing his palms against the back of his jeans as he guided her wordlessly to a chair in front of a sleek white laptop.

'Um…' he began, grinning bashfully as he stood awkwardly in front of her. He gave a small cough to clear his throat before beginning again, his face earnest as he went on.

'Mercedes, I-I know you said that you wanted time, and I hope you don't get mad at me for doing this, but… but I wanted you to know that, for me, nothing has changed. I still love you Mercedes, and I'm still fighting for you, even if right now that means backing off to give you the space that you need.'

Sam scuffed a Converse clad foot along the floor as he continued, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

'We only have a little time left before we graduate, and I know that that's all kinds of scary… but one thing you never have to worry about is me, because I'm going to be there, Mercedes. The way I feel about you doesn't have an expiration date, and I think you're amazing and… uh, I think that I'm lucky to know you Mercy, and one day the world will be too.'

He finished speaking and cocked a half grin at her, his hand going up to run nervously through his hair.

'I had a speech all planned out, but I kinda forgot it when I saw you.' he admitted, a blush staining his cheeks. 'Anyway, I, um… well, I made you something.'

Sam reached over and opened the laptop, sitting down in the empty seat next to her to lean across and press play on the video he had cued up.

It was a cartoon, hand drawn and roughly animated, showing a little black and white version of Sam carefully writing out the signs that Mercedes had collected. Their real life versions now sat on one of the desks behind her where Sam had dropped them between upturned chairs after he'd seated her.

The Sam on screen was chatting to tiny cartoon versions of Joe, Quinn and Rory, his hands moving excitedly as he outlined his plan. Next a cartoon Rory, (with a shamrock on his shirt) helped the Sam to arrange the signs around the school. Rory disappeared soon afterwards, leaving the animated Sam alone in the classroom looking worried. His crudely drawn mouth forming a small, dark 'o'. Thought bubbles sprang from his head, and suddenly the whole screen was bathed in colour. Mercedes watched with tears forming in her eyes as a fully coloured Sam danced with her at prom, hung out with her at the lake and watched over sleeping versions of his siblings in the motel. A soft smile tugged at the corners of Mercedes's mouth as she watched her cartoon self share a first sweet kiss with Sam against her car outside the motel. After that the colourful flashback faded back into the black and white of the animation before, with Sam waiting patiently in the classroom where she'd actually found him. Mercedes shot Sam a look out the corner of her eye as cartoon Mercedes made a reappearance, wearing slightly different clothes to the ones she actually wearing, but still most definitely her.

The little Sam figure pulled a folded piece of red paper out of his pocket and unfolded it into a heart, the colour a bright contrast to the rest of the picture as he handed it to the on screen Mercedes. Sam must have spent forever working on it, Mercedes thought as the animation ended, but she still didn't really understand what it was all about. Hadn't the sign said something about a question?

Mercedes looked up to ask Sam what was going on, and found that he was holding a red heart in hands, the paper trembling with his nerves. With a hard swallow, Sam passed the paper to her and waited anxiously as she scanned it.

 **Will you go to prom with me?**

Mercedes heart stopped as she stared down at the heart clutched in her hands. Of course, she would gladly go to prom with Sam, but she couldn't pretend that she wasn't also a little bit disappointed. She knew that she'd asked him to back off, but Mercedes' mind had also flashed back almost instantly to the last time Sam had handed her a red heart, and she'd hoped that this elaborate proposal was his way of asking her to be his girlfriend again. But it wasn't, and her heart sank as that realisation set in.

'What's wrong?'

Sam's voice sounded panicked as he took in her expression. Bittersweet was the best word he could think of to describe it, she looked happy, but at the same time… _not._

 _'_ Oh god, you hate it don't you?' he fretted, looking around as if the room might offer him some solution as to what to do.

'You don't have to say anything.' he assured her, his words picking up speed as Mercedes continued to stare down at the paper clutched between her fingers.

How had he been so _stupid?_ Sam reprimanded himself, he'd made this _exact_ mistake before, came on too strong, pushed her before she was ready… What had he been _thinking?_

But he _knew_ what he'd been thinking. He'd been thinking that Mercedes had seemed different, more receptive, lately. He'd been thinking that life was too short, and that she deserved at least _one_ prom in her high school career where she would get to feel wanted and desirable from the start. Sam knew that he should have known better, but he'd been so damn _sure_ that he was doing the right thing…

He bit his lip and sighed, preparing to fold down the lid on the laptop when Mercedes spoke.

'Yes.'

Sam froze, a hand still on the laptop as his brain raced to compute what she'd said.

'Yes?'

'Yes, I'll go to prom with you.'

Mercedes tore her eyes away from the heart in her hands to look him in the eye.

'I would _love_ to go to prom with you, Sam.'

Her eyes were sincere, and Sam felt like his heart was swelling a bunch of sizes like the Grinch in that Dr Seuss book, yet he could tell that something was still bothering her by the way her eyelashes hit the curve of her cheeks and how she worried her lip with her teeth. Even though Sam hadn't been with Mercedes for a while (six months, three weeks, twelve days and about seven hours actually, but who was counting) he still _knew_ her. So even though his heart was doing the mambo at her prom acceptance, he still scooted his chair closer to her and tilted her face up to look at him.

'Then what's wrong, Sweetheart?' He took a risk using his old pet name for her, but he instantly regretted it when her big eyes filled with sadness and blinked her gaze away from him. Sam saw her swallow, and then she seemed to make a decision within herself, raising her head up to look him directly in the eye.

'I thought you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend again.'

He gulped, his mouth turning suddenly dry as his heart stopped momentarily in his chest before starting up again double time. _Had he heard her right?_ Sam didn't even want to hope, because if he was wrong, if he'd misheard her… then it was going to hurt like _hell_.

'Wha-what did you say?' he stuttered out, his green eyes intent on Mercedes' face as she answered.

'I thought… I _hoped,'_ Mercedes amended in a voice that sounded _far_ more confident than she felt, 'that you were going to ask me to be your girlfriend again.'

'Would you want that?' Sam asked, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips, his mouth felt like the frackin' _Sahara_ and he licked his lips again as he waited anxiously for Mercedes next words.

Mercedes' sudden boldness seemed to flutter away from her like a breath on the wind as she faced Sam's question, and she cast a shy gaze downward as she nodded.

'I _would_ want that.' she admitted, bringing her eyes up to his again, 'I would want that a lot.'

A slow grin spread across Sam's face as he studied his girlfriend's face as if seeing her for the first time. He felt like his already enlarged heart was about to burst with happiness, he didn't know it was possible to feel this good. Maybe he'd died and this was heaven?

Sam managed a slow nod, the grin stuck in place - probably forever - as his eyes flickered to Mercedes' plump, kissable mouth and back up again.

When he spoke his voice sounded about two octaves deeper than usual as he raised a hand again to cup Mercedes jaw.

'Well then… um, Mercedes Jones…' Sam stopped, momentarily distracted when her hand curled around his arm to hold it in place.

'Mercedes Jones, _will you be my girlfriend_?'

They were only a few inches away from each other now, but Sam held back from kissing her until she gave him an answer, his mouth hovering so close to hers that their lips brushed with each shaky breath they took.

Mercedes softly uttered a single word before she leaned in and closed the distance between them, her lips trembling slightly as they moved against Sam's in the familiar dance of heat and fire that they'd perfected over the summer. It felt so good to finally be reunited with his mouth, and those kisses, after so long - _too_ long _-_ apart.

' _Yes.'_


	14. Tennessee Heat

'Mom, I'll be fine!' Mercedes promised for the fiftieth time as she handed her boarding pass to the girl at the check-in desk, her phone clamped firmly between her shoulder and her ear.

'No, Mom… _Yes,_ Mom…' Mercedes smiled apologetically at the amused looking clerk as she handed her luggage over.

'Ok, Mom… No, I actually have to go now… _Really_ have to go.' She tried to pull the phone away from her ear but her mother kept talking, repeating all the same advice she'd given Mercedes as a kid, even though Mercedes was 24 years old now and only flying a couple of states over, not across the world. By the time her mother had repeated the words 'don't take candy from strangers.' for the _third_ time Mercedes was officially at the end of her tether.

' _Mom.'_

 _'_ Flight AA219 to Nashville, Tennessee is now boarding. Could all passengers for this flight please make your way to Gate 61. That's all passengers for flight AA219 to Nashville, Tennessee, please make your way to Gate 61. Thank you.'

Mercedes eyebrows rose as the check-in clerk spoke in perfectly modulated tones to sound _just_ like the flight announcements that would echo periodically through the small airport.

'Oh baby! You better go!' Her mother insisted on the other end of the phone, as if Mercedes hadn't been trying to do just that for the past 10 minutes. 'Don't want to miss your flight, you know you can't get a refund on those things.'

'Uh huh,' Mercedes nodded into the phone with a grateful look at the attendant, whose brow was wrinkled sympathetically as she waited for Mercedes to finish up on the phone. 'Listen, I don't know what the reception will be like on the ranch I'm staying at, but I'll talk to you just as soon as I can, ok?' Mercedes promised, thinking that 'as soon as she could' would probably not be until she'd set foot back in Ohio.

The trip was supposed to be relaxing, but Mercedes knew that it wouldn't be if her mother called every few hours to make sure she hadn't been kidnapped. Mercedes revelation prompted more worried chatter on the end of the line but she was able to stop it with a firm reminder that she had a plane to catch.

'Of course, Sweetie. Have a good time.' Mrs. Jones sounded like she was on the verge of hiring a bodyguard to protect her daughter on her two week vacation, so Mercedes was careful to sound _extra_ reassuring as she said goodbye. She sighed with relief as she hung up and smiled gratefully at the attendant who had saved her from her mother's constant worrying.

' _Thank you_.'

'Not a problem!' The bubbly blond replied, shooting Mercedes a warm smile of her own as she handed back her boarding pass. 'I was raised by a single father and two older brothers, so I know overprotective when I see it.'

'Oh, ouch!' Mercedes winced, 'I bet _your_ dates had fun.'

'It was a laugh riot.' the blonde deadpanned, nodding slowly until the two women broke into amused laughter.

'Well, have fun in Tennessee, Miss Jones.'

'Thanks, uh…'

'Stacey.' The woman supplied, shaking Mercedes' hand.

'Well, thank you, Stacey. I'm certainly going to try!'

The flight over was fairly uneventful, there had been one tense moment when the plane had hit a pocket of turbulence, forcing Mercedes to seriously rethink her plan to travel alone, but thankfully it hadn't lasted long and she'd arrived at the airport in one piece. She had been advised to take a cab from the airport to a nearby bus station, and then from there get the bus that would drop her off somewhere in the vicinity of the ranch she was staying at. Someone would apparently be sent to pick her up from there.

It was when the bus dropped her off on a dirt road next to a whole load of dark, foreboding-looking trees that Mercedes began to wonder if she'd maybe made a mistake in opting for a 'secluded' getaway. She'd booked the ranch on a whim after scrolling through the millions of places that offered an 'authentic Cowboy experience' in Tennessee. That wasn't really Mercedes' thing, she wanted to rest, not wake up at the butt crack of dawn to shovel manure. _No thank you._ Something had drawn her to the ad for the Nightingale Ranch, although she wouldn't have been able to tell you what, and she'd been delighted to find that the words 'authentic' and 'Cowboy' were nowhere to be found. She'd studied the pictures online and though it looked charming, and with unusual gumption she'd picked up her credit card and booked a room for two weeks the following month.

Now Mercedes found herself hoping that she hadn't fallen into one of those traps killers and kidnappers always seemed to lay out on _Criminal Minds_. Not even being saved by Shemar Moore in a flak jacket would be worth _that_ foolishness. Mercedes kept one eye firmly on the trees as she waited for the person who was coming to pick her up and take her back to the ranch. She'd phoned when she got on the bus, as she'd been advised to do, but she'd thought that someone would have been there waiting for her, instead of having to wait for _them._

Mercedes sighed, glad that she knew what she was looking for, a powder blue Chevy pickup truck, at least the kidnappers wouldn't be able to catch her out _that_ way. Unless they snuck up on her, or threw a bag over her-

… Was it her, or was that the sound of _breathing_ behind her?

Very slowly, her purse gripped in her hand ready to be used as a makeshift weapon, Mercedes turned around…

… and came face to face with a long, white face speckled with grey. Large brown eyes blinked down at her from beneath lengthy silver lashes as the creature came to investigate this new person in the middle of its habitat. Mercedes stayed very still as the horse took a couple of steps closer to her, its grey mane trembling with every step it took. She didn't know what to do. Should she run? Or would that make it chase her? Should she say something, or would the sound of her voice agitate it? _Why wasn't it tied to anything?_ and _how_ could a horse be that stealthy? She hadn't heard it at _all._

Gingerly, Mercedes edged one foot to her left and shifted her body to follow it. The horse remained where it was standing, eyeing her as she moved her foot again and edged slightly further away from it. After Mercedes had made it about five steps to her left the horse shook its mane with a whinny that made Mercedes' heart race, and took one horse-sized step to align itself with her again so it could continue watching her.

'Um… Horse. _Horsey.'_ Mercedes spoke tentatively to the beast, holding out a hand as if that might ward off any immediate attack it might be considering.

'Go… _away.'_

She made a gentle shooing motion with her outstretched hand, but it made absolutely no difference to the animal that continued to watch her calmly, swishing its ears against the cool summer breeze.

'Ok, so that's not… _working!'_ Mercedes finished her sentence with a startled shriek as the horse pushed its warm muzzle into her open palm, happily nuzzling it as Mercedes stood frozen in surprise. Once she'd realised that she wasn't about to suffer death by horse bite, Mercedes found that the sensation really wasn't all that bad after all.

She gave the horse's long forehead a tentative stroke, but her hand stilled when it let out a soft whicker in response, but she resumed the motion once she was sure the sound had been a positive one. Mercedes grew more comfortable with her strokes as the horse stepped closer and nuzzled at her, laughing when it nudged at her neck, breathing a gust of horsey breath over her as it made its affections known.

'Hey!' Mercedes protested, moving away from the beast's kisses. 'You know, you really ought to take me out on a date first!' she told the animal with a chuckle, 'I'm not that kind of girl!'

'You heard the lady, Ranger.' A deep voice drawled from behind her, and Mercedes found herself taking a worried step closer to the horse. Sure, she'd been afraid of the creature a few minutes before, but she was far more inclined to trust the four legged animal than the mysterious voice that may well have come from the woods. The horse seemed to sense her discomfort and moved in front of her slightly.

Mercedes turned to face the stranger and was relieved when her eyes landed first on the powder blue truck parked a few yards away on the dirt path. She then sought out the source of the voice and was met with a tall figure regarding her with an amused expression. Mercedes had to look up at him to see his face, and took an inventory of his features as she did so: long, muscular legs in blue jeans, a well-worn soft plaid shirt that fell loosely over a flat stomach. Firm biceps bunched against the fabric of his sleeves as he held his arms crossed against a broad chest that tapered down into a slim waist. The man's face held large, pink lips quirked in a half-smile, and pair of bright green eyes twinkled at Mercedes in amusement from underneath a pale, wide-brimmed cowboy hat.

 _Wow._

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch as Mercedes hastily stroked the horse's flank in an effort to get her blush and instant attraction to this man under control.

The man had removed his cowboy hat just as soon as she'd seen him, revealing short dirty blonde hair that had been brushed back away from his forehead and fixed in place by the hat he'd been wearing.

'Sam Evans, Ma'am.' he informed her, holding out a hand for her to shake as his eyes took in her soft lips, large doe eyes and plush, curvy body. He licked his lips involuntarily as Mercedes shook his hand, his thumb swiping at the smooth skin of her wrist before he told himself to get a grip and stop hitting on his paying guest. He didn't want her to change her mind and book somewhere else because he'd been coming on too strong. The ranch was doing ok, but they could definitely use the extra money her stay would bring.

'Sam.' Mercedes repeated, committing the name to memory.

'Yup.' Sam confirmed with a curt nod, 'And am I right in thinking that you're Miss Jones?'

Sam thought it was pretty the way the afternoon light reflected off the woman's satiny brown skin as she nodded. She looked like some kind of delicious fruit, _just beggin' for the tastin'._ _**Don't go there, Sam**_ _._ He reminded himself again. _Stop thinking about hitting on the paying customer! Jesus!_

Sam walked on over to her luggage to give himself something to do other than stare at her and picked it up, surprised to find that it wasn't at all as heavy as he'd expected it to be.

'And you met The Lone Ranger here.' he gestured a hand towards the horse and it neighed in answer. 'Ya'll seemed to be gettin' on pretty well.'

Mercedes looked sidelong at the horse and giggled when it seemed to be doing the same thing to her.

'Yeah.' she admitted, 'Its name's really _'The Lone Ranger'?'_

 _'_ Sam smiled, and gave the horse a friendly pat.

'That it is, ma'am. She's my dad's, he used to watch the reruns on TV when he was a kid and dreamed of being a Texas Ranger when he grew up. Obviously, that didn't happen because we live in _Tennessee,_ ' Sam let out a warm chuckle that somehow managed to make Mercedes feel as if her whole body were bathed in sunlight, 'but I think Ranger here was enough to satisfy those dreams. Weren't you girl?' Sam gave the horse another pat before he nodded his head towards his truck and started off towards it.

'I admit to being kinda surprised to see you with Ranger. She seems to prefer to keep to herself these days' he explained as he hauled Mercedes' suitcase into the flatbed of the truck. 'My dad can't ride her anymore so she mostly takes herself out. We just trust the old girl to bring herself back.'

Sam fitted his hat back on his head and unlocked the passenger door, but he raised a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it bashfully when he got a look a how the cab of the truck hovered on a level with Mercedes' waist. She really was kinda tiny, and he hadn't anticipated that.

'I didn't think to get a step…' He apologised as Mercedes braced her hands on either side of the door to try and lever herself up. 'No, don't do that.' he insisted, releasing Mercedes' hands gently from the metal. He got her to turn around and anchored his hands around her waist, lifting her up onto the seat with ease.

'There you go.' Sam closed the door and made his way to the other side, completely unaware of the look of surprise that now coloured Mercedes' features.

He'd just _lifted_ her. Like she weighed nothing. _Without batting an eyelid._

Mercedes wasn't ashamed of her body in any way, but she hadn't expected to be picked up and moved around like some kind of 100lb cheerleader either. This was most _definitely_ a first for her, and she was even _more_ intrigued to find that she'd actually _liked_ it.

Sam, on the other hand, was freaking out a little bit. He shouldn't have touched her. Now that he had he just wanted to do it again… and again, and _again._ He tried not to think about the way his hands had felt clutched around her waist, or the way they'd sunk into her softness and how much more incredible she'd looked up close. He very carefully kept his thoughts away from the smell of strawberries and expensive chocolate that had drifted up from her skin as he'd leaned into her…

And she was going to be in his _house._

For _Two_. _Weeks_.

Sam lifted his hat to run a hand through his hair before he climbed up into the cab beside her. What _was_ it about this woman that had him so hot under the collar? He was 26 for goodness sake! He should _not_ be reacting to touching a girl - a _woman -_ he corrected, like a teenage boy at his first dance.

Mercedes felt her skin prickle with the heat of just being _near_ this guy. He wasn't even really her type! She'd _never_ been attracted to cowboys, unless they were of the Dallas variety, and yet here she was practically having hot flashes because some blond with a dashing smile touched her _waist_. Mercedes knew that she would be a mess for the next two weeks if she didn't get herself together soon, and she resolved to ignore whatever attraction she might feel towards Sam Evans. If she ignored it, it would go away.

Something felt wrong with that sentence, but Mercedes wasn't going to dwell on it to see what it might be. Sam turned on the radio at Mercedes' request as soon as they were both buckled up, although neither of them were really listening to it. They were both lost in their own thoughts as they stared out the truck windows; Sam at the road ahead, and Mercedes at the acres of corn, green grass and flower fields that flew past as they drove by.

This would have been the _ultimate_ relaxing holiday, Mercedes lamented internally, her eyes trained idly on a passing field full of cows. She stole a look back at Sam only to catch him in the process of stealing a look at her. Their faces split into identical embarrassed smiles as they turned away again, Mercedes' cheeks burning and a blush already coloured the top of Sam's ears, staining them a tomato red. _Then again_ , Mercedes told herself, _maybe relaxing is overrated._ _Sometimes learning was fun too, and she'd sure enjoy learning about Sam._

 _'_ Oh, I love this song!' She shifted in her seat as one of her favourites came on the country music station Sam's truck radio was tuned to.

'Me too.' Sam reached over to turn the dial up as the intro played, looking at the woman in the passenger seat out the corner of his eye as the verse started, leaning forward against the steering wheel as they burst into song, apparently both having the idea to sing along to the hit to ease some of the awkward tension between them.

' _Cause God blessed the broken road/That led me straight/ To you.'_

Sam insisted on singing the guitar solo, which had Mercedes falling about laughing in her seat as he really got into it, wiping away tears of mirth from her eyes as they sped along the dusty road towards Sam's ranch.


	15. Sleepless Nights

A sharp, piercing cry crackled through the monitor at the side of their bed and interrupted the tentative sleep that had only just descended since the last time this had happened… two hours ago.

'I'll get her.'

Sam's voice was still gravelly and rough with sleep as he rolled away from where he he had been wrapped around his wife, pressed tightly against her back. He threw out a long, pale arm and grabbed blindly at the baby monitor, the other hand raised to his mouth to stifle a huge yawn.

'S'myturn.' Mercedes protested sleepily, rolling over to face him in an attempt to recapture his warmth.

'Is it?' Sam queried honestly, his face scrunching up as he tried to remember. This was the third… or maybe _fourth?_ time they'd been awoken by the plaintive mewling of their firstborn, and he was struggling to keep track through the haze of tiredness that had been hovering over him since the day their child had been born, six months prior. 'I don't 'member.'

'We'll both go.' Mercedes suggested, shuffling her body into an upright position so that she could swing her legs over the edge of the other side of the bed. Sam nodded, running tired hands through his already sleep-mussed hair. Blond tufts were standing up in all directions and his current worrying of it made him look like he'd just been pulled out of a haystack. Mercedes giggled as her husband came around the bed and held out a hand to her, she wrapped her fingers around his, standing on tiptoes and using their joined hands as support to reach up and make an attempt at smoothing down his hair. Sam smiled as Mercedes fussed over him, his eyes shining with love and warmth for this woman, _his_ woman, who somehow managed to be beautiful even exhausted at three in the morning, his wife and the mother of his gorgeous baby girl. Sam felt the tears well up in his eyes as he looked down at her, but blinked them rapidly away. His gooey, sentimental thoughts were probably due to the sleep deprivation, he told himself, though he knew that he was lying through his teeth.

Mercedes smiled shyly up at him, apparently having a similar thought process to his as she reached her free hand up to pull Sam down for a sweet, tender kiss.

'I love you, you know that?' she whispered quietly after their lips had parted and Sam nodded, a grin blossoming on his face until another woeful cry burst through the monitor in his hand.

'The princess awaits.' he informed her without a hint of sarcasm, waving the device in his hand as evidence before he turned the doorknob and propped the door open with his arm so his wife could pass underneath.

A few steps down the hall in the nursery, Sam watched as Mercedes lifted their tiny baby out of the crib and set about feeding her. He marvelled at the way his daughter's tiny, perfect fingers - topped off by tiny, perfect fingernails - clutched at her mother's waist. The baby was silent and content now that she was being fed, and long dusty blond eyelashes fluttered against plump caramel cheeks as she fought off the wave of sleepiness that would occupy her for the next two hours or so. Sam took his princess from Mercedes' arms and burped her as his wife rearranged her clothing to get herself back together again.

Sam smiled to himself as his daughter spat up onto the towel thrown over his shoulder, even though he knew it was gross, he kinda thought _everything_ his daughter did was cute. He was still being knocked for a loop by the simple fact that he'd helped _make_ this person, this tiny weight that he held in his arms. Sure, he could probably do without the sleepless nights, nappy changes and earsplitting, terrifying cries, but he wouldn't trade any of it for the world. They were _happy,_ his little family unit, and that was all that mattered.

Later, when Mercedes slipped her hand through his to go back to their bedroom, Sam squeezed he hand gently and felt the familiar feeling swelling in the pit of his stomach. _Love._ He didn't need any more confirmation that he was _exactly_ where he was meant to be.


	16. Early Mornings

Mercedes danced out the kitchen door booty first, wearing an outfit that seemed to be comprised entirely of Sam's clothes. He recognised them from the hastily made trail they'd made leading to their bedroom door the night before. Sam watched Mercedes' round bottom wiggle under his dress shirt with interest as she sang along to the radio and set yet another dish on the already laden kitchen table.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight as he folded his arms across his chest, settling himself against the door frame to take her in. She hadn't seen him yet, and Sam took the time to appreciate Mercedes unobserved before a sudden yawn overcame him and alerted his girlfriend to his presence.

'There you are!' Mercedes beamed before coming over to plant a soft, slow kiss on his lips in greeting.

'Here I am.' Sam said, grinning down at her lazily as Mercedes ushered him to sit down at the table. 'Why are you up so early?'

Mercedes let out a giggle and quickly slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle it. She'd managed to hold onto the secret this long and she didn't want to give the game away just yet.

'Because it's our anniversary, silly!'

She disappeared back into the kitchen only to reappear moments later with her hands full of yet _more_ food.

'C'mere.' Sam said, catching her wrists and pulling her to him after she'd placed the steaming bowls on the table. 'I _know_ it's our anniversary, Cede, but it's also six am on a _Saturday_.' He took a moment to scan the table that already held more food than they could possibly eat. 'What time did you get up to make all this?'

Mercedes shrugged and turned to go back into the kitchen, but didn't make a fuss when Sam pulled her onto his lap.

'I couldn't sleep.' she explained, leaning in to brush the hair away from her boyfriend's face. 'I was excited.'

' _I_ was excited,' Sam protested, clutching her tighter to him as he enjoyed the feel of her hands in his hair. 'Imagine my distress when I wake up, hoping to show my beautiful girlfriend _exactly_ how **excited** I am, only to find that she's not there?'

Mercedes shot him a look but her eyes were soft.

'Sorry.'

'Na-uh.' Sam shook his head adamantly, 'The words ain't gonna cut it, missy. I insist that you come back to bed with me and apologise there, preferably for a few hours.'

He tried to pick her up to carry her to the bedroom, but Mercedes struggled and slapped lightly at his chest until he let her down again.

'Alright,' Sam sighed with exaggerated patience, 'I understand, I get it, I see what the problem is here… So, we'll take the food with us. We'll probably need the energy anyway.'

' _Sam!'_

The blond shrugged and looked unapologetic. 'What? You know I'm right.'

'Sam, I want to give you your anniversary present!' Mercedes raised exasperated hands to her hips and pouted at him, but Sam just licked his lips as the shirt she was wearing rode up with the action. _He wondered if she was wearing anything under there…_

 _'Sam!'_

'Right, right.' Sam shook his head to dispel those thoughts. He'd have plenty of time to find out later. 'What were you saying?'

Mercedes rolled her eyes but it didn't last long before a huge grin replaced it, splitting eagerly across her face as she ducked back into the kitchen for a moment, practically skipping when she re-entered the room and pushed Sam back down into the chair he'd recently vacated.

'Here.' Mercedes handed him a slim, unmarked white envelope before plopping down into the chair next to him, her brown eyes intent on his face as she waited for him to open it.

Sam looked down at the envelope in his hand and then back up to his girlfriend, who looked so excited she was actually bobbing in her seat. He was momentarily distracted by all the wondrous things that action did to her body before Mercedes leaned over and poked him in the thigh with one of her short, little fingers.

'Ok!' Sam said, cocking a smile at his adorable girlfriend as he slid a finger under the lip of the envelope and ripped it open. 'But I have _your_ card in the…'

Sam's voice trailed off as he caught sight of what was inside the envelope. The packet had felt stiff, like cardboard, so he'd just assumed that it was an anniversary card… he'd been wrong.

'You got…' Sam's voice was hushed, almost reverent as he pulled the slim tickets out of the sleeve.

He seemed to have lost his ability to form proper sentences, because as he held the tickets in his hand it was all he could do to breathe out fragments of ideas and hope that Mercedes could translate.

'On the phone… hours… couldn't get… _how?'_

Mercedes grinned as she watched her boyfriend cradle the Comic-con tickets in his hands like they were his firstborn.

'I pulled some strings.' she said easily, loving the way Sam's face lit up as he stared at her gift.

'I have to talk about voicing Ink on the _Image_ panel,' she explained, referring to the work she'd done providing the voice for one of Image Comics most loved dark characters, a woman named Alyssa Pennington who went by the pseudonym, 'Ink'. The performance had won Mercedes a Spoken Word Grammy only two months before.

'But that's only going to take, like, an hour though,' she continued, 'two, tops, and the passes are for the whole weekend, so-'

She was interrupted by Sam pulling her onto his lap to crush his mouth to hers. He'd wanted to go to San Diego Comic Con for years, but money had always been too tight, or other commitments had gotten in the way…

Now he was finally able to go, and it was all because of his amazingly awesome girlfriend and her amazingly awesome voice.

Sam's hands sank into Mercedes softness as he pulled her against him and deepened the kiss, then his fingers were scrabbling to undo the ridiculously fiddly buttons on his shirt until she laughingly pulled away and pushed at his chest for some room.

'There'll be time for that later.' She promised, the glint of assurance sparkling in her eyes. 'But I'm still in the middle of giving you my present here.'

Sam's mouth fell open and his voice pitched up incredulously. 'There's _more?!'_

Mercedes giggled and nodded, patting her boyfriend's leg as a sign for him to let her up.

'I explained all of this to Megan,' the woman explained as she got up to make her way to the hall closet, her voice echoing down the hall as she continued speaking. 'As you can imagine, she wasn't too keen on the idea.' Mercedes went on, describing her overly cautious publicist, 'She said that since the release of my album my star is on the rise and, "I can't just go around acting like I'm an unknown anymore."'

Mercedes reappeared in the doorway holding a large, lidded box in both her hands. 'Now, because I'm amazing and the best girlfriend _ever,'_ Mercedes went on, pressing a kiss to Sam's lips before resuming her chair. 'I argued and bargained and _eventually_ struck a compromise.'

Sam felt the butterflies in his stomach start to pick up as he took in the box on Mercedes' lap. It couldn't be…. _could it?_

 _'_ The point being that I got her to agree on the condition that I wear a disguise, which, it turns out, is actually pretty easy to do at Comic-Con.'

She broke off to tip her boyfriend a wink and a knowing smile, but Sam had stopped breathing. His heart was already beating at what felt like light speed, and he could tell that whatever was in the box on Mercedes' lap was about to take him to like, warp factor 9.

Sam wasn't sure his heart could take this much awesome in one day.

'So…' Mercedes handed Sam the box and he accepted it with shaking hands, his fingers fumbling as he tried to remove the lid.

'Ohmigod.' Sam didn't quite know what to do with himself, he thought he might actually have experienced joy overload. Mercedes was forced to wave a hand in front of his face after several minutes where Sam had just sat frozen, blinking down at the contents of the box.

'You know I'm usually more of a Marvel girl.' Mercedes explained, lifting the velvety catsuit out of the container sitting limply in Sam's hands, 'but I needed the mask, so…'

She held the Catwoman costume up against her and Sam couldn't help but let out a little whimper. It was the Eartha Kitt version.

His girlfriend was going to wear the Eartha Kitt Catwoman costume.

To Comic-con.

With him.

Sam let out another moan as Mercedes snapped on the mask and turned to grin at him, but her face fell when she caught sight of Sam's wide eyes and shell-shocked expression.

'Don't you… Don't you like it, Sam?'

Sam shook himself out of his lust and joy filled haze enough to focus properly on his girlfriend, his eyes darkening almost instantly as he greedily drank in the sight of her.

'I love it.' He announced, standing up and sliding his hands under Mercedes' ass so she could wrap her legs around him. 'I love _you_. A lot. A whole _heck_ of a lot.' Sam felt his heartbeat pick up again when Mercedes' soft chest melted against his own.

 _No bra,_ he thought, the lust rearing heavy in the pit of his stomach. _Catwoman mask and no bra._

Sam licked his lips involuntarily and he barely even registered that he'd already set off for their bedroom with his girlfriend still wrapped around his waist. He kicked open the bedroom door with his foot and tipped her onto the bed, a delighted smile lighting up his face when she bounced and giggled against the mattress.

'There is no _way_ I'm not marrying you.' he promised as he quickly followed after her, crawling along the mattress until he was hovering above her.

Mercedes laughed again as she clasped her arms tightly around Sam's neck and pulled him down to her. 'Is that a proposal?'

The corner of Sam's mouth twitched up in a half smile as he shook his head.

'No.'

His mind wandered to his own anniversary present for Mercedes, and Sam hoped that she hadn't caught the way his eyes had automatically flicked to where the velvet ring box was currently hidden in his sock drawer. 'Not yet.' he added. 'But _soon_.'


	17. Seven Years

Sam tapped his tumbler against the wooden bar top and smiled gratefully when the bartender obligingly slid the cool glass out from between his fingers and replaced it with a fresh one. Sam raised the glass in silent toast to the server's kindness before bringing the drink to his lips. He closed his eyes almost reverentially as the amber liquid pooled over his tongue and slid down his throat. The TV above the bar was silently playing some entertainment show that no one was really paying much attention to, but Sam trained his eyes on it as he gulped down the last swallow of his drink, the whiskey hitting his stomach with a fire that quickly spread through the rest of Sam's body.

Sam wasn't really a big drinker, but he'd learned his limits in college and he knew that a couple more glasses of the warm, comforting liquid wouldn't kill him. His whiskey had disappeared much too quickly for Sam's liking anyway.

He set his now empty glass back on the counter and nodded when the bartender asked if he'd like another. His eyes stayed trained on the bartender as a slender blonde woman hopped up onto the bar stool next to him. Sam didn't look around at her, not even when she propped her elbow up against the bar and openly studied him like some kind of puzzle she was trying to figure out.

Sam leisurely wrapped his long fingers around his third glass and took a long, languorous sip of the whiskey. He was feeling a lot better now than he had when he'd come in.

'You're too young to be here, Stacy.' he pointed out, fingering the cardboard Miller Light coaster before tenderly setting his whiskey down on top of it.

'I _look_ old enough.' Stacy pointed out with a nonchalant shrug of her slender shoulders.

Sam scoffed.

'Oh yeah, _that'll_ placate Mom and Dad.' he mocked, lifting his glass to his lips again.

'Actually, I reckon I'm the lesser of two evils right now.' Stacy told him, looking at the alcohol in Sam's hand with distaste. 'I don't know why you're being like this, Sam, but it has to stop.'

Sam's actions ceased, his glass halfway to his lips as his expression turned stony.

'Stay out of this, Stace.'

'No.' his sister insisted stubbornly, her blond ponytail bobbing as she shook her head. 'You're my brother. I love you… but I don't recognise you anymore.'

Sam looked up then, and found Stacy's wide blue eyes filling with tears as she watched him. He wanted to shake it off, wanted to pretend that he didn't see her, wouldn't care even if he did… but he couldn't.

Sam ran a hand over his eyes and huffed a deep breath. Finally, he pushed the coaster, drink and all, away from him on the bar and turned his entire body around to face his little sister.

'What happened to you?' Stacy asked him quietly once she had his full attention. The question was curious, but not accusatory. She truly wanted to know what had turned her brother into this _shell_ of the man he once was. It was like someone had stuck a straw in him and sucked out all the goofy, dorky parts that made him fun. It was like they'd taken all the parts that made him _Sam_.

Sam sighed again and tipped on his bar stool to reach into the pocket of his denim jeans. Palming whatever it was he found there, he carefully placed it on the countertop and slid it towards Stacy. His eyes didn't leave her face as she tentatively picked up the blue velvet ring box and thumbed it open. Her hand flying over her mouth to stifle her instinctive gasp as she stared at the beautiful antique diamond engagement ring inside.

'Pop gave me Meemaw's ring.' Sam explained neutrally, putting the ring box back safely into his pocket when Stacy handed it to him.

Stacy nodded along sagely, and then shook her head.

'I'm sorry,' she admitted, 'I still don't get it. I'm pretty sure they can see the hints Danielle's been dropping about y'all getting married from space.' Stacy frowned, her brow folding into wrinkles. 'Now you have a ring, what's the problem?'

Sam stared at the countertop and then picked up his whiskey again, swirling what was left of the amber liquid around in his glass before raising it to gesture at the TV. Stacy followed his hand to the TV and stared at it for a moment, trying to understand but failing.

'The problem is that Mercy is releasing a new album…?' Stacy's eyes were on her brother's face, hoping for some kind of non-cryptic clue as to what was going on. So she was in the perfect position to notice the tiny flicker of… something, when she'd said Mercy's name. Stacy looked back up at the screen again, ignoring the banner running along the bottom of the TV for a moment to study the popular singer's face. There was something familiar about it. Stacy tended to stay away from the top 40 but she would secretly sing and bop along whenever a Mercy song came on the radio. Something about the woman's voice was both soothing and nostalgic to her, although Stacy wasn't entirely sure what it was reminding her of.

Sam studied Stacy for a long moment, his eyes narrowing in thought as he seemed to turn over the circumstances in his mind. Eventually he drained what was left of his drink and set the empty glass down in front of him, this time he shook his head when the bartender offered him a refill.

'You probably don't remember,' Sam began, 'but before Mercy was ' _Mercy_ ' she was Mercedes Jones, sometime babysitter to you and Stevie and…' Sam swallowed hard, finding the words difficult to vocalise. 'She's the first woman I ever loved.'

 _The_ _ **only**_ _woman, I've ever loved_. Sam corrected mentally, but didn't dare say the words out loud.

Stacy's jaw went slack and she quickly brought her eyes back up to the TV screen hoping to reconcile Mercy's image with her memory, but the story had already changed.

'I… how comes no one talks about her?!' Stacy demanded, momentarily distracted by the amount of cool points she could earn at school as a former close personal friend of a real life celebrity.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and clasped his large hands in front of him on his lap, his eyes fixed on them as he tried to figure out exactly when it had been decided that no one would talk about Mercedes anymore.

'Uh, that's… that's my fault.' Sam admitted, his throat suddenly feeling like sandpaper. 'I… She and I, we broke up just before she moved to LA and I… didn't take it so well.'

 _'It's for the best, Sam.' Mercedes huge eyes were dewy as she blinked at him, but Sam couldn't see that past his own disbelief at the words she was saying. Did she really expect him to want to break up? Really? After all the trouble and pain the two of them had gone through to get back together?_

 _'No, it isn't._

 _'What?'_

 _'It isn't for the best, Mercedes.' Sam protested, 'I've done this before, I've tried being apart from you. It was hell. It's_ _ **not**_ _for the best.'_

 _Mercedes swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing that Sam would just let her do this for him without turning it into an argument. They had so little time left together, she didn't want to spend it arguing with him. It already hurt enough as it was._

 _'Sam…' she reached out a small brown hand to touch his arm, but he jerked it out from under her. Mercedes tried to pretend like the action didn't hurt, but it felt like he'd taken a fish hook to her heart, every jerk hurt her, but she was still, unavoidably attached to him._

 _'Sam, you deserve so much more than a girlfriend you barely see.'_

 _'I'll see you.' Sam insisted, 'there's Skype, and Thanksgiving is soon…' he was babbling, operating under the belief that if he didn't give her any space to talk then she couldn't break up with him. It couldn't happen if he didn't let her say the words._

 _'And my family are doing better, I can save up money and go out there to visit you, and… and…'_

 _Sam hadn't realised that he'd started crying until Mercedes tenderly wiped his tears away. He didn't want to give her up, he wasn't sure he'd survive if she asked him to._

 _'I won't have you wasting opportunities waiting around for me.' she insisted gently, 'I love you too much to do that.'_

 _She went to withdraw her hand, but Sam stopped her, covering her small brown fingers with his long pale ones. She was crying too, Sam noted, the tears rolling large and hot down her round cheeks._

 _One by one, Sam kissed them away, the salt of her lingering on his lips as he tried in vain to kiss away the tears faster than they could fall. He wasn't sure when he had gone from the one being comforted to the one doing the comforting, but he wrapped his arms around Mercedes soft body anyway, pulling her close to his chest, like a life raft, like she was the only thing keeping him alive in a sea of emotions too vast, way too vast for him to handle._

 _Somehow they went from sitting on his bed to lying on it, and eventually Mercedes fell asleep, her tears leaving a wet patch on the sleeve of Sam's t-shirt, but he didn't much care. He figured that at least it was proof she was_ _ **there,**_ _that for a little while longer they belonged to each other._

 _While Mercedes is sleeping, Sam traces all of her features with the pad of his finger. He maps the valleys and hills of her body, seemingly unable to stop until he has her committed to memory. He needs to do this while he can, while he still has her._

 _The thought makes his chest feel uncomfortably tight and Sam feels the tears pricking at the back of his eyes again, but this time he doesn't fight them. Just lets them fall as he curls up next to the love of his life and falls into his own fitful sleep._

 _Later, when Mercedes is in the shower, Sam pulls out his map of the United States and glides his finger along the distance between Ohio and LA. It doesn't seem so far when he measures it like that, and for a moment he ignores the scale his map is drawn in, ignores the fact that the tiny coloured blocks that lie between him and where she would be are entire States. For a second it seems like it would be so easy… and then he hears the water shut off in the shower, folds his map back up and accepts that it isn't. Not for them. Not yet anyway._

 __Sam closed his eyes at the memory washed over him. Mercedes had come out of the bathroom wearing his old Captain America t-shirt and the jeans she'd been wearing before. His shirt had looked different on her, but good, and strangely fitting. It had been the shirt he'd been wearing the first time he'd noticed her, before all the mess with Quinn and Santana. Before Kentucky, before Shane…

She'd tried to give it back to him at the airport, that shirt, but Sam had refused to take it. Instead he'd made her a bargain: they'd wait seven years, long enough for them both to get done with college, for them both to build lives and experiences and live stories to tell. And then, if, after all that, the feelings were still there, _then_ she could give it back to him. Mercedes had rolled her eyes at first and tried to shove the shirt back into his hand anyway, but Sam had stood his ground. Maybe the timing had been wrong the first time, _and the second time_ , he allowed, but third time was meant to be the charm, right? Sam _had_ to give them a chance, even if it was slim. There had to be a chance.

'So, then what happened?' Stacy asked, once it was clear that Sam wasn't going to continue on his own volition. 'Did you meet her? Is that what this is about?'

Sam shook his head and carelessly began to flip the beer mat over and over on the bar with his fingers.

'For a while I got kinda introverted.' Sam admitted, 'I'd be fine in groups, at school and stuff I was OK, but on my own I could flick it off like a switch.' he shrugged. 'Mom and Dad couldn't do much from Kentucky, but I guess they figured out that asking about Mercedes made me close off pretty quickly.' Sam sighed and wished he had another whiskey, the first three were wearing off surprisingly quickly.

'Then Mercedes first song came out and it just… _blew up_.' Sam shook his head. 'It was everywhere, I couldn't get away from it, and even though I was super proud of her, it still hurt like hell to be constantly reminded of what I didn't have. So I… I decided that if Mercedes wanted me to see other people then that's what I was going to do, but it didn't feel right. That's when mention of her started to make me angry, because I felt like she'd just given up on us…'

Sam looked up into his sister's concerned eyes. 'Nothing really worked though, even with Danielle.' Sam relayed, letting the truth come out for the first time. 'I thought I'd moved on, I thought I could forget her, but… Sam broke off, lifting his eyes to watch the TV again.

'But…' Stacy prompted, 'but what?'

'But it's coming up to seven years.' Sam said quietly, not taking his eyes from the TV set. 'and I'm so tired of pretending like she didn't take the colour out of my world when she left.'

Stacy bit her lip, the excitement threatening to bubble out of her as all the puzzle pieces fell into place in her head.

'Wait,' she interrupted, holding a hand up to stop her brother from going on. 'So you're here because you're still in love with Mercedes, you don't want to marry Danielle and if Mercedes loves you back then she's going to meet you at an undisclosed location-'

'New York.' Sam supplied, 'Where we had our first date.'

'-any day now?'

'Sam nodded and checked his watch. 'In eight hours.'

'In eight hours.' Stacy confirmed with a nod, and then her eyes widened in shock as she realised what her brother had said.

'Eight HOURS?!' she demanded, loud enough that several of the bar patrons turned to look at them both. 'What are you doing here?! Why aren't you on a plane?! _Sam!'_

 __Sam gestured at the TV set again and waved the bartender back over while Stacy looked obediently up at the screen.

'What am I looking for?' She asked, turning around in time to see her brother ordering another drink.

'No.' she told Sam firmly, turning to smile sweetly at the bartender and explain that her brother was being cut off for the night.

'It's rolling entertainment news.' Sam explained, after a second unsuccessful attempt to get another drink.

'So?…'

'So watch the story about Mercedes.' Sam prompted dejectedly, ordering a glass of water instead of the hard liquor he _really_ wanted.

'Mercy prepares for European album launch.' Stacy read, her brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what that might mean. 'So?'

' _So_ ,' Sam with exaggerated patience. 'She's in _London_ , and we're supposed to meet _tonight_.'

Sam saw the instant Stacy understood the implication of what that meant, but it took him completely by surprise when she started crying.

'No!' Stacy managed after a few wet sobs. 'It's not over!'

'Stace…' Sam sighed, resenting his sister in that moment for forcing him to comfort her when all Sam wanted was to feel bad for himself.

'No!' Stacy interrupted, smacking her palm loudly against the bar. 'It's NOT over!' she repeated, stabbing her finger aggressively in Sam's face before wiping her cheeks dry.

'You don't know she won't find a way to be there.' Stacy pointed out. 'What if she goes all the way to New York and _you_ don't show up? When will you have the chance to see her again?'

Sam bit his lip. The thought had been haunting him too, he'd actually bought a ticket to New York, right after he'd quietly broken up with Danielle, but then he'd seen the report about Mercedes' European tour and deliberately missed his flight. He already felt stupid enough without actually physically chasing a dream.

'You have to go.' Stacy was saying, a feverish glint in her eye as she plotted. 'I have a little money saved up,' she was muttering to herself, 'all I have to do is get him to the airport.' She looked up and flashed her brother a wide, bright smile that made him feel vaguely uneasy.

'Give me your car keys, Sam.'

Sam leaned away from his sister and shook his head. 'No.'

'Sam.'

'Stacy, you only _just_ passed your test.' Sam protested, thinking of his beautiful, rebuilt by hand Chevy truck.

'And you only have…' Stacy checked her watch. 'Seven hours and twenty minutes to get to New York, Samson.' she smirked and held out her hand palm up. 'And you've been drinking.'

Sam looked at the bartender sadly, aware that he had well and truly lost this fight.

'Fine.' He agreed after a long pause, he leaned onto one butt cheek and fished his keys out of his pocket, holding them hostage in his fist as he spoke. 'Take me _home,_ Stacy.' he insisted, lowering his hand to hers but not relinquishing the keys. 'I know you probably think the whole story sounds really romantic and stuff, but may I point out to you that I'm dating someone else,' Sam only hesitated slightly on the lie, it wasn't like Stacy knew any different anyway. 'And it would be incredibly reckless to get on a plane to New York right now in the hopes that an International Superstar will show up and tell me she loves me.'

Stacy nodded sagely and then wiggled her fingers for Sam to give her the keys. 'It's _Mercedes_ though,' she pointed out as Sam let a single key from the loop fall into her hands and then clutched tighter to the rest of them. 'not _'International Superstar, Mercy_.' Stacy herp derped her way through a Sam impression and raised an eyebrow at him. 'She'd just be a woman,' Stacy began, 'standing in front of a boy… and asking him to love her.'

'That's from Notting Hill.' Sam deadpanned, and Stacy sighed.

'FINE!' She complained, throwing her hands up in defeat. 'I'll get you home.'

'Thank you.' Sam shot back and plonked his keys into his sister's hand.

It was probably the three whiskey's, Sam decided later, but it wasn't until Stacy had been driving for twenty minutes that he realised they weren't headed towards his house.

'Is it someone's birthday?' Mercedes asked for the third time that day, her phone clutched thoughtfully in her hand as a hairdresser worked on her hair. She was on location, doing a publicity shoot for a UK magazine ahead of her album launch and everything was going well so far, except Mercedes couldn't shake the horrible feeling that she was forgetting something.

'No.' Sierra, her manager, didn't look up from her Blackberry as she answered. 'Nothing today except this photo shoot.'

'Right.' Mercedes nodded and leaned back in her chair, but the tension was still running through her. She could feel it under her skin, like steel in her bloodstream.

'Could it be someone's anniversary?' She asked after a few minutes. Sierra let out an exasperated sigh and put her phone down.

'Is everything ok, Mercy?' she asked after a long moment spent studying her employer. 'You seem really distracted today. Do you want me to reschedule the shoot?'

Sierra was really just asking to ask, and Mercedes knew that. They were already halfway through the shoot, and rescheduling now would be a complete nightmare. She stopped just short of shaking her head, for which the hairdresser was very grateful, and smiled as reassuringly as she could at her assistant instead.

'I'm fine.' Mercedes smile widened on her face, but her eyes telegraphed that her mind was elsewhere. 'It's fine.'

Someone, probably one of the photographer's assistants or some intern from the magazine, had hooked Mercedes' iPod up to the speakers, and she was enjoying herself singing and dancing along to the music in between takes when the song changed and Mercedes stopped dead. The photographer was trying to get Mercedes to change poses, but she didn't hear him. She didn't even hear Sierra's voice when she, too tried to get Mercedes to move. It was as if every other sound in the world was drowned out as Mercedes' senses focussed completely on the song coming out of the iPod speakers.

She knew what she'd forgotten now.

After a few more moments spent in stunned silence, Mercedes walked past the photographer, the hairdressers, make up artists, wardrobe specialists (to whom she handed the $6000 Balenciaga headdress she'd been wearing.) even past an open mouthed Sierra and back to the dressing rooms where she'd left her phone. She took a few seconds to look up a number and then walked out.

'What do you mean, she's gone?' Sierra fumed, staring daggers at the security guards who had been on the door during the shoot. 'She's _Mercy_.' the woman pointed out, waving her short arms over her head for emphasis. 'She's one of the biggest stars on the _planet_ , are you saying she just walked past you without you noticing?'

'Oh, we noticed.' the other guard offered blithely. 'She waved to us.'

'Signed my hat.' the other chipped in, taking off his baseball cap and showing it to Sierra, who batted it away with the back of her hand.

'And you just let her _go_?'

'It was Mercy!' one of the men pointed out, a goofy smile on his face. 'You can't say no to Mercy.'

'She's so nice.' the other sighed dreamily.

'You are both _idiots_.'

Sierra glowered at the two men darkly before lifting her Blackberry to her face and frantically dialling numbers.

There were no more flights to New York by the time Sam got to the airport, but a forty minute drive with Stacy explaining all the reasons why he shouldn't give up on love had strengthened Sam's resolve, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket the instant the man at the flight desk had snootily informed him that there would be no more flights that night.

'Sugar?' Sam asked hopefully into the phone once it had stopped ringing. 'I need to ask you for a really huge favour.'

Mercedes knew when she neared the dark ticket office for the drive-in movie theatre that she was too late. The chains across the gate did nothing but confirm what she'd known since she'd first boarded the plane to New York, still wearing all her designer wear from the photo shoot: She was too late. For everything.

Sam Evans was the love of her life, and as much as she'd tried to wave it off and pretend it wasn't as big a deal as it was, there was the truth. It had always been sitting there, just under the surface, just waiting for a chance to reveal itself.

Then Human Nature had come on her iPod - today, of all days - and Mercedes had dropped everything, dropped every _one,_ and walked out on a professional commitment. For _Sam_ , the man she hadn't seen in seven years. Sam, the man she had broken up with all those years before out of fear - fear of holding him back and fear of becoming a regret in his life.

Now, as Mercedes stared up at the dark, unyielding gates of the drive-in movie theatre where they'd had their first date, she couldn't help but think it a little ironic that Sam had now become _her_ biggest regret.

Mercedes had always thought that success would make her happy, that the Grammies and accolades were what she wanted out of life, but when she'd found herself on stage accepting her first Grammy of seven one awards night, she'd been shocked by how empty it had all felt. Mercedes had come home and lined the awards up on the mantlepiece and then gone up to her empty bedroom, climbed up under her empty sheets, and lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. Alone.

She was proud of what she'd accomplished, but even now seven years after the fact, Mercedes would still find herself reaching for her phone to text Sam about something that had happened during her day and then having to stop herself when she realised what she was doing. She didn't even _have_ Sam's number anymore. It had been lost after she'd had her phone stolen her second week in LA, and she'd never felt right asking him for it again.

Mercedes figured she'd probably lost _Sam_ a long time ago, too. Even if she had managed to make it to the theatre on time, there was no guarantee he would have been here. Seven years was an awfully long time, and it was hard to miss what an incredible guy Sam was. He was probably off happy with someone else right now, Mercedes thought morosely. Maybe he had children, maybe he didn't even realise that it'd been him that she'd thanked in every one of her Grammy speeches. Maybe she was just holding on to something that she could never have again.

'I'm too late.' Mercedes said quietly, lifting a hand to trace the key hole on the heavy padlock around the gate. 'Shit.' she whispered, a fat tear rolling a glistening down her heavily made up cheek. 'I'm too late.'

'You know, I said the exact same thing.'

Mercedes started at the voice, taking a wary step back from the gate and staring warily into the shadows near the gate. She probably shouldn't have sent the taxi away, but Mercedes had been so _sure_ she'd make it on time.

'I got here maybe…' there was a pause as the owner of the voice thought for a moment, the silhouette becoming more visible as they stepped out of the shadows. 'Ten minutes ago, and the whole place was chained up.'

Mercedes bit her lip as a tall figure loomed towards her, wisps of their blond hair shining in the light from a distant street light.

The person stepped closer out of the shadows and Mercedes was able to see the woman's pixie-like face for the first time. She was tall and athletic looking, but her face was a lot softer than the hard-bitten criminal that Mercedes had been expecting. There was something innocent about the woman, even though she towered over Mercedes.

'I swear, I've never been so heartbroken to see a locked gate.' the woman continued, tipping her head to one side and taking in Mercedes' appearance with her wide blue eyes. 'but if you think _I_ was bad, you should have seen my brother.'

'Your… brother?' Mercedes repeated, her heart beginning to beat rapidly in her chest as she took in the Southern drawl and familiar smirk stretched across unfamiliar lips.

'Yeah.' the woman confirmed, lifting a slender arm to point through the iron railing of the gate. 'That guy.'

Mercedes turned her head automatically, squinting into the darkness at the shape she could vaguely make out sitting just behind the ticket booth, at the end of the short row of seats designed for the few walk-in customers that might turn up. She and Sam had been walk-in customers she remembered. Sam had wanted to rent a car for the day but had been disheartened to learn that you had to be twenty-five, so Mercedes had made him laugh by miming a car for the entirety of the short walk to the theatre. They'd both secretly been a little disappointed to find that the theatre had regular seats, but they'd had an incredible time anyway.

Mercedes sighed at the memory, wrapping a hand around one of the iron bars and pressing her forehead to the cool metal. She'd missed being the dork she was with Sam. He'd never judged her for it, and she felt like she could be completely herself with him. Since she'd been signed to her label, Mercedes had felt less like that girl every day. Mercedes squeezed her eyes shut and allowed herself to remember the woman that she'd left behind. Even if it was too late to save things with Sam, it wasn't too late to save things with herself.

'You look like a prisoner like that.' The blonde woman said, and Mercedes smiled into the bars and straightened, bracing both hands against the railings this time.

'I'm not a prisoner. I'm a free man!' Mercedes said, realising belatedly that she wasn't the one being spoken to when someone else said the line at the same time she did.

'Wow.' the woman said after a brief pause, staring between Mercedes and her brother in shocked awe.

Mercedes tried to will her eyes open, but the fear of what she might see or, more accurately, who she might _not_ see when she opened them glued them shut. Warm fingertips touched one of the hands Mercedes' held tight around the railing, quickly followed by the rest of a large, calloused hand, a hand so achingly familiar that Mercedes had no choice _but_ to open her eyes.

'I thought I'd missed you.' Sam breathed, his green eyes fixed on the face that he'd once known so well and now saw only in magazines and entertainment shows.

'So did I.' Mercedes admitted, her voice strangely small in the darkness as Sam's long fingers ghosted along the smooth skin of her wrist through the bars. 'I got here and everything was locked.'

'I know.' Sam smiled, his lips quirking amidst stubble that hadn't been there seven years ago. 'I didn't think…' he paused and licked his lips. 'I didn't think you'd come, so I wasn't going to either.' he admitted, 'and then we raced so hard to get here, I just couldn't believe I'd missed you.'

'You were inside…' Mercedes pointed out quietly and Sam's smile grew.

'I climbed over the gate.' he admitted with a boyish shrug.

Mercedes lowered her lashes, enhanced by lots of make up as well as false lash extensions and smiled. 'You always were kinda badass.'

'Damn straight.'

Mercedes stood back as Sam climbed back over the gate again, her teeth worrying at her lower lip until Sam was standing in front of her again.

'So… does this mean that you…uh.' Sam began, suddenly nervous as he saw for the first time how incredibly glamourous Mercedes looked. She looked like a Queen, and he felt like… like a pauper looking up at her and dreaming. 'That you…'

'That I love you?' Mercedes filled in as she took a tentative step closer to him.

'Well… _yeah_.' Sam scuffed his foot along the pavement, suddenly unable to look at the woman he'd come all this way for a chance at seeing.

'Yes.'

Sam looked up sharply, certain that he must have heard her wrong. 'Yes?' he repeated and Mercedes nodded.

'Yes.'

Sam's face split into an overjoyed grin and he barely resisted the urge to jump up and down and punch the air. 'You love… _me_.' he repeated, his excitement escaping from him in little bursts of laughter.

'I never stopped.' Mercedes laughed, nodding her head again. 'I have your shirt, but it's in LA, and I came here from London so…' She trailed off, not needing to finish that sentence and Sam nodded, his head bobbing happily as he grinned at her. 'Um,' Mercedes began, staring down at her toes peeking out through her elaborate gladiator heels. 'Do _you_ still -'

'Yes!' Sam interrupted before Mercedes could finish the question, and she beamed at him not quite sure what to do with the sudden rush of happiness that was taking over her body.

' _YES!_ ' A voice from nearby exclaimed, and both Sam and Mercedes turned to look at the blonde woman, who looked very sheepish as she lowered her jubilant fist back down to her side.

'Sorry.' she apologised, scuffing her shoe along the sidewalk like Sam had just done and shooting them both her most innocent smile. 'But you guys have no idea how hard I ship you two.'

Mercedes looked confused, but Sam's cheeks reddened at the words.

' _Stacy._..' he began warningly and his sister nodded, mimed locking up her mouth and then threw away the imaginary key.

'Wait.' Mercedes interjected, staring between the blonde woman from the movie theatre and Sam. 'Stacy as in… as in little Stacy?' she asked, her voice pitching high with incredulity. 'Stacy Evans who I used to babysit?'

She looked harder at Stacy's face and then shook her head, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

'Oh my god!' Mercedes squealed when Stacy nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around the unsuspecting girl and squeezing her tight. 'Look at you!' Mercedes leaned back to study Stacy again and shook her head in disbelief.

'You got so _tall_!'

Stacy laughed as Mercedes looked up at her and sent a look to her brother.

'Yeah, that's me.' She grinned, remembering suddenly how much she'd loved 'Mercy hugs' when she was little. 'But look at _you_!' the girl insisted. 'Do you wear this kind of thing every day now you're a big star?' Stacy asked, fingering the heavily embroidered jacket Mercedes was still wearing.

Mercedes looked down at herself as if only just remembering what she had on and laughed, her voice sounding like music to Sam's ears as she shook her head.

'No, I came straight from a photo shoot.' she explained, frowning slightly as she thought about what she'd done. 'Actually,' she clarified, 'I sort of _walked out_ on a photo shoot.'

'How very diva of you.' Sam supplied affectionately and Mercedes smiled but shook her head. 'It's actually the most 'diva' thing I've ever done.' she admitted, allowing Stacy to link an arm through hers as they started walking back to the main street. 'I'm kinda scared to turn my phone back on.'

'So don't.' Stacy suggested, making it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. 'At least not until tomorrow.'

Mercedes turned the idea over in her mind, surprised to find that it wasn't quite as horrible an idea as she thought it would be.

'Well, then… what would we do 'til then?' she asked curiously, her eyes locked with Sam's.

'We're in the city that never sleeps.' Sam told her, spreading his arms wide to encompass the bright lights of the city, before lowering them to look her seriously in the eye, the familiar crackle of electricity sparking between them. 'We can do whatever we want.'

He held her gaze for a moment longer before breaking out into a grin.

'After we've found you something less conspicuous to wear, of course.' he added, and Mercedes laughed despite herself.

Sam smiled nervously and offered a slightly trembling hand out for her to take.

'So… what d'you say?'

Mercedes lifted her hand, but hovered it uncertainly over Sam's for a second.

'What about Stacy?' she worried and Stacy gave up trying to pretend she wasn't listening in and gave a huge affected yawn.

'Stacy is all tuckered out.' the blonde announced, telling herself that taking one for the team and giving up a night in New York for the sake of love would reap her endless karmic rewards one day. 'I'd be grateful if y'all could just take me back to the hotel.'

Sam's eyebrow twitched slightly as he turned back from Stacy to face Mercedes again.

'Well?' he asked, his hand still open underneath Mercedes'. 'Wanna play hooky with me, Cameron?'

A small smile tugged at the corners of Mercedes' mouth and she looked away for a moment before turning back and screwing up her face comically.

'If I don't say yes you're just going to keep calling me and _calling_ _me_!' she misquoted and Sam grinned back at her. Mercedes always got his pop culture references.

Mercedes hand lowered into Sam's and his fingers curled obligingly around her palm as her fingers slid home between his. She smiled when he tore his eyes away from their intertwined hands and gave his hand a squeeze.

'Let's go, Ferris.'


	18. Hens

Mercedes stared at the long dress bag hanging from the top of her wardrobe like a huge, white phantom and felt the familiar stirrings of nerves knotting in her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick, but then, that might also have been from the mixed drinks Kurt kept feeding her. She'd stipulated that hers should be virgin, and Kurt had tried to compensate by mixing together weird combinations of soft drinks (and occasionally food) that he had found around her house.

'What's in this?' Mercedes asked dubiously as she stared into the murky dark brown depths of the drink Tina handed her. 'It looks… interesting.'

'I don't know.' Tina whispered back, pulling a face that actually looked a little scared. 'He just handed it to me and said it was a 'surprise'.'

Mercedes laughed to hide her fear and tentatively sniffed the concoction. It smelled… like chocolate, and a tiny bit like cough syrup.

God, she hoped there wasn't cough syrup in it.

'On the count of three?' She suggested and Tina nodded, looking like she was about to be led to the gallows as she held the glass to her lips.

'One…' Mercedes counted, squeezing her eyes shut in preparation. 'Two…' she raised the glass to her lips and winced. 'Three!'

Both women sipped at the same time, their faces relaxing into pleasantly surprised expressions as they looked at their glasses in relief.

'It tastes like Oreos.' Tina posited, taking another, larger swig.

'And ice cream.' Mercedes added, sniffing the drink again before shrugging and taking a big mouthful of her own.

'It's actually nice!' Tina smiled as she happily drank more of Kurt's concoction, endlessly grateful that she wouldn't have to find creative ways to tell her friend that his 'culinary creation' had the same effect on her as ipecac. 'I thought after the banana, coffee and jelly bean disaster…'

'Shh!' Mercedes held up a hand before Tina could continue, the mere memory of that vile liquid making her feel queasy. 'Don't mention its name.'

Kurt appeared in Mercedes' bedroom doorway with another tray of the drinks in his hand and a huge smile on his face as he set them down in front of his friends with a flourish.

'What do we think, Ladies?' he asked them, studying their faces for their reactions.

'It's really good, Kurt!' Mercedes told him, since Tina was too busy guzzling down the rest of her drink to answer. 'You've outdone yourself.'

Kurt smirked at her, and then leaned over to smack Mercedes playfully on the knee at her obviously relieved tone.

'I'd take that as a compliment if I hadn't watched you spit my last attempt into the toilet bowl.' He admitted, not looking hurt at all. 'Ah well, the path to greatness never did run smooth.'

He shrugged and rearranged himself more comfortably on the floor, propping his elbow up on his knee as he reached for his own glass. 'I suppose I'll leave the creative combinations to Heston Blumenthal.'

'Probably a good idea.' Tina agreed, tilting the glass to slurp down the last few drips of the drink. 'This one is good though.'

'I can see that.' Kurt raised an eyebrow as Tina's tongue darted out to catch the last few drops and shook his head. 'And to think,' he teased affectionately. 'You always seemed so poised in high school.'

Tina put her glass down and tossed a stray pillow at him, but Kurt just laughed, obviously in high spirits despite the fact that he'd just taken a purple decorative cushion to the face.

'How are you feeling, Starshine?' he asked Mercedes once he realised that she'd zoned out, her eyes wide and unseeing as she stared at the dress bag again. He leaned over to squeeze her knee comfortingly, and she turned her head to look at him curiously. 'You look like Raven having a vision.'

Mercedes shook off the last of her funk and shook her head, pulling a face at Kurt's comparison while Tina burst into fits of giggles beside her.

'Shut up!' she insisted. 'I'm fine. I'm just… It's so _close._ '

She blinked owlishly a few times and then smiled tightly at her two best friends.

'It's really happening, isn't it?'

Tina sniffled and Kurt wordlessly handed her a pristine Alexander McQueen handkerchief before scooting closer to wrap his arms around Mercedes' shoulders.

Tina studied the handkerchief for a few seconds and then abruptly stopped crying. She shook her head at Kurt's curious gaze as she scooted closer to Mercedes' other side, handing the cloth back before slipping her arms around Mercedes' waist.

'I can't blow my nose into Alexander McQueen.' She said by way of explanation. 'It's just _wrong._ '

Kurt beamed like a proud parent and moved his hands a little lower to give Tina's arms a quick affectionate squeeze to show his appreciation.

'I've trained you so well!'

Tina rolled her eyes, but smirked at the brunette as Kurt moved his hands back around Mercedes and rested his chin on her shoulder.

'You're going to be a married lady.' Tina told her seriously, as if the truth of the fact had only just hit her. 'You're going to be a Mrs!'

'Oh my God!' Mercedes looked horrified and Tina shot Kurt a panicked look as Mercedes began to freak out.

'I'm going to have to be mature and responsible!' She complained, her voice dangerously close to a wail. 'I'm going to have to have a joint account! And credit card statements with both our names on!' The colour drained from her face as she continued to think about all the other, horrifying, trappings that would come with her impending marriage.

'I'm going to become one of those people who constantly tries to fix up their single friends and says things like 'My husband and I'!' Mercedes looked like that was the worst possible fate in the world and dropped her head into her hands.

'I'll be the kind of person that _likes_ going to Home Depot!'

Sensing that things were perhaps getting a little out of hand, Tina put on her sternest voice and pulled away from her best friend, fixing her with a serious look.

'Look at me, Mercedes.' She instructed, and Mercedes dutifully turned to face the petite woman, ignoring the stressed tears still trickling down her cheeks.

'I have been married for two years.' Tina began, 'And I have _never -_ not once _-_ _ **enjoyed**_ Home Depot ** _._** _'_

Mercedes sniffed and swiped at her nose, her big doe eyes hopeful as she took in Tina's words.

'Really?'

'Really.' Tina confirmed, smoothing out the hair that Mercedes had messed up when she'd dropped her head to her hands. 'Mike loves it, but I think that's because he's one of _those_ guys and the place is filled with power tools.'

'Sam likes to pretend he's Toolman Tim.' Mercedes volunteered, running the back of her hand along her cheeks to wipe away what was left of her tears as she nodded in agreement.

Kurt stifled a laugh at the image, but he bit his lip just in case it inadvertently upset Mercedes further… or had her questioning her decision to get married again.

'I can't believe you're worrying about having to seem responsible when you're marrying _Sam._ ' He pointed out, remembering the rehearsal dinner the night before where Sam, Mercedes, and Sam's car keys had all mysteriously gone missing for forty minutes of the night. They'd all returned… _eventually_ , but Mercedes' hair had definitely had inexpert hands in it, and Kurt kept getting flashes of fresh hickey marks along Sam's collarbone whenever he turned a certain way.

'Sam's plenty responsible!' Mercedes complained, reaching indignantly for her second glass of the chocolate drink.

'In many ways, yes.' Kurt conceded, knowing that it was true. 'But the man wanted to have a _Star Trek_ themed wedding.' He pointed out, shuddering slightly at the thought.

'It was Star _Wars_.' Mercedes corrected around her straw, contentedly ignoring Kurt's equally horrified expression.

'Well, regardless, there is no way I would have worn one of those bathrobe things and waved a stick around for Mercedes 'Diva' Jones' wedding.' Kurt protested, 'No. _Way._ '

Mercedes shrugged and took another long drag on her straw.

'You're in the bridal party,' she pointed out, 'so _technically_ you would have been in a Princess Leia costume.'

Tina burst into another fit of giggles, and after a few seconds of watching her and Mercedes cling to each other in fits of laughter Kurt was forced to join in.. He couldn't stay serious in the face of such a ridiculous image and his friends' infectious laughter anyway.

'Yes, well.' Kurt announced after the three of them had got their breath back. 'That just goes to show, you don't have to worry about being 'responsible.''

Mercedes felt the knot that had been slowly forming in her stomach all night slowly unclench at Kurt's words, and she heaved a large sigh of relief as she realized that he was right. She'd been freaking herself out over nothing and she was at once infinitely glad that both Tina and Kurt had been able to spend her last night of singledom with her. Quinn had wanted to be there too, but she was filming a movie in New Zealand and hadn't been able to make it back for the wedding. Mercedes had been disappointed until Quinn had informed her that she fully intended to watch the entire thing via Skype connection ala Phoebe from FRIENDS.

Mercedes took another thoughtful sip of her drink and felt an uneasy prickle of realisation that Tina had been unusually silent for the past few minutes. Although she'd been fairly quiet in high school, college in LA had allowed Tina to find her voice, and Mercedes had since learned that now the woman was only silent for long stretches when she was either thinking deeply, or planning something.

'Whatcha thinkin', T?' Mercedes asked cautiously, having fallen prey to Tina's unexpected prankster ways before.

'I'm thinking…' Tina began with a wicked glint shining in her eyes, 'that you're getting married tomorrow, and as the last single person among us, that's an occasion that deserves to be marked with a 'bang'.'

Kurt looked like he was quickly catching on to what Tina was getting at, but Mercedes was still confused.

'But we already had the bachelorette party, Tina.' She pointed out, ' _Please_ don't tell me you've hired another stripper. The last time Sam kept asking me if the stripper's dance moves were better than his, and then he wouldn't let me leave the bed for _two whole days_ afterwards because he wanted to 'reset my memory'.'

Mercedes stopped, the straw clasped pensively between her lips as she cocked her head to one side and thought about what she'd just said.

'On second thoughts,' she observed, 'I'm perfectly ok with that.' Mercedes flashed a happy smile at her two startled-looking friends and innocently took another sip of her drink. 'You may proceed!'

'Uh, _so_ not what I meant.' Tina finally stated after a moment of awed silence, then she climbed gracefully to her feet and held out her hand to Kurt. 'Will you lend me your car keys? I need to run to the store.'

Kurt obligingly fished in his pockets for his keys and slapped them into Tina's waiting palm, taking care to mouth 'No Water' at her as she turned to leave.

'I'll be back!' Tina promised, and Mercedes giggled to herself because it sounded like something Sam would say.

Tina looked at her friend in confusion for a moment until she realized why Mercedes was laughing, and then shook her head, a faint smile playing on her lips as she made her way out of the door .

'You have it _so_ bad.' She pronounced solemnly, 'It's a good job you're marrying him.' Then she disappeared around the door frame and went to Kurt's car to start her mission.

Tina returned about thirty five minutes later carrying three bulging grocery bags filled with unspecified items. Mercedes plucked a can off the top of the pile when Tina set them down and read the label incredulously.

'Silly string?' she questioned, reaching back inside the bag and pulling out a long, cylindrical package. 'Toilet paper?'

Kurt reached into another bag and pulled out a brightly coloured toy with thumb and forefinger. 'A _super soaker_?!' he asked, in the same tone of voice that someone might use to say 'A hand grenade?!'

'Yes.' Tina nodded, already prepared for Kurt's protestations. 'And…'

She reached back into the bag and brought out three individually wrapped shower caps and parceled them out between her friends. Kurt immediately ripped his open and placed it over his perfectly coiffed hair, staring into the glass front of Mercedes' kitchen cabinet to check the fit.

'You think of everything, Mrs. Chang.' He lauded, 'I don't know why I doubted you.'

'I don't know why either.' Tina admitted with a grin and pulled out the other two super soakers.

'I'm not entirely sure what's going on.' Mercedes admitted, staring dubiously down at the shower cap in her hand as Tina continued to unpack the bags.

'We're being reckless.' Tina announced as Kurt went upstairs to fetch some towels from the hall closet. 'We're being young, and immature, and playing with silly string, and having a water fight, and TPing Noah Puckerman's house because he did it to me in 7th grade and Tina Chang doesn't forget.'

Tina pumped the empty water gun twice for emphasis and Mercedes had to smile at the deadly serious expression on her friend's face.

'And the shower caps?' Mercedes asked, her grin wide as Tina went over to the sink to start filling the water guns.

'Kurt would murder us in horrible, creative ways if we wet your hair and ruined it the night before your wedding.' Tina pointed out and Mercedes nodded, accepting it for the truth that it was.

'You know it's nighttime, right?' Mercedes pointed out, taking the shower cap out of its packaging and sliding it on over her already wrapped hair.

Tina shrugged, 'Yeah, but I figure we can use the outside lights in your garden for the water fight, and the TP-ing is best performed under the cloak of darkness anyway.'

Mercedes shook her head at Tina's devious mind and then turned as Kurt came down the stairs holding a stack of clean towels. He'd taken the opportunity to change out of his silk pyjamas while he was upstairs, and had slipped into a borrowed pair of sweats and a t-shirt that Mercedes instantly recognised as Sam's.

'Are we ready, Ladies?' Kurt asked as he rounded the corner, dropping the towels on the kitchen counter and picking up one of the filled water guns. 'Because I'm declaring war on _both_ of you.'

He held the water gun in both hands, his face a mask of steely ferocity as he tried to look tough, but Mercedes and Tina couldn't quite take him seriously with fuschia stripes from one of Mercedes' abandoned lipsticks painted across his cheeks.

Tina wiped the telltale tears of repressed laughter from her eyes and fitted her own shower cap over her head, handing Mercedes the last water gun before flipping on the patio lights and unlocking the door to the back garden.

The three of them trailed dutifully out after her, pausing only to check that the backdoor was closed, but not locked, before coming together in the centre of the large garden to establish the rules.

'Alright,' Tina announced with all the efficiency of a war general. 'Everyone gets a ten second grace period before we start shooting. The outside faucet is a safe zone, no squirting people while their refueling. No squirting anyone whose cap has fallen off,' she continued, counting the rules off on her fingers, 'and final rule:'

She grinned, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she pulled a ribbon out of her pocket and tied it around her shower cap like a bandana.

'Show no mercy.'

Her grin widened as she checked the readout on her watch for the time.

'Synchronise watches!' Tina demanded, and Mercedes and Kurt obediently checked the time off with each other before taking their water guns in both hands again. 'We stop at 2030 hours.' Tina told them both once they were both prepared. That gave them forty minutes or so of water fight time, Tina figured, which meant they could TP Puck's house at 9 and be back, safe in bed by eleven at the latest.

'You know,' Kurt mused belatedly. 'We should _probably_ be encouraging Mercy to get her beauty sleep instead of inciting her to water war.'

The two women looked at him for a minute, Tina looking genuinely thoughtful while Mercedes just scoffed and waved her hand at him.

'Please! As if I'd sleep tonight otherwise.' She insisted. 'I'm getting married tomorrow, Kurtykins!' She announced, bobbing excitedly from foot to foot as Kurt smiled warmly at his oldest friend. 'And the countdown already started.' Mercedes added.

Kurt's smile fell as he turned his head sharply to his left and saw that Tina was already several meters away and still running. Wide blue eyes turned back to Mercedes, as Kurt began backing slowly away from her, his heart sinking as she smiled very sweetly at him and then aimed her water gun square at his chest. Then she pulled the trigger.

All bets were off after that.


	19. A Little Something Different

Samaire aimed the football and lined it up a couple of times before finally letting it go, grinning as she watched it arch gracefully through the air and into Michaela Chang's waiting hands. She cheered loudly as Michaela jogged past the sweater that marked the touchdown line and made a show of slamming the football into the ground.

'OH ye-ah!' Sammy sang, breaking into an awkward version of the robot. 'We won, we won! We-we-we won!'

'Yeah, yeah!' Noelle Puckerman complained, rubbing a hand along the shaved section of her head as she watched her friend dance. 'You got lucky.'

'Luck ain't got nothing to do with it!' Athena 'Attie' Abrams announced, rolling her wheelchair up to her friends. 'That right there was SKILLZ!'

She held out a palm and Samaire slapped it gleefully.

'Nice!'

'Whatever.' Noelle announced, bitterly swinging her hair over her shoulder. 'You guys are all losers anyway.'

'Not according to the final scores.' Michaela supplied glibly, while Samaire frowned.

'What's up with you?' she asked carefully, studying her friend warily. 'You're grouchier than usual. What are you, on your period?'

Noelle shot her blonde friend a death glare and folded her arms across her chest, scowling.

' _No_.'

'Does this have something to do with the rumour going around that Fiona and Quentin are getting back together?' Attie asked cautiously, her voice holding a strange steely note.

Noelle wrinkled her nose. 'Ugh, _no.'_ she insisted snootily, 'Fiona is still with that dickwad Richard, anyway.'

Noelle rolled her eyes at the thought of the cravat wearing drama geek and tightened her arms over her chest.

'Then what is it?' Samaire asked curiously, her fingers reaching up to pull at the end of her blonde braid as she thought. 'That thing you had with Santiago ended ages ago, and he's with Brett now anyway. It's not Quentin… Obviously you're still trying to pretend you didn't have that fling with Richard…'

The last comment earned her another death glare from her moody friend but Sammy ignored it.

'The thing with Larry is over…' Sammy's eyes lit up as she looked at her friend. 'Oh my gosh, is that it?' she asked breathlessly. 'Do you want Larry back? Because you two were _so_ good together, and I know he kinda broke things off suddenly but I think if we put our heads together…'

'Oh my GOD.' Noelle interrupted, her face twisted in annoyance. 'I'm _horny_ , ok?' she announced, frowning at her group of friends for making her say it out loud.

'It's been _weeks_ ,' she explained to the shocked group. 'I'm like a shark, you know? I can't stop otherwise I die! … or get super cranky and start attacking people, and it's been _way_ too long in Puckerina time. I'm basically ready to rip people in half like that giant shark in that movie with all the blood.'

'Jaws.' Attie supplied, and Noelle nodded.

'Well…' Samaire said finally, her eyes searching the air for the right words to say. 'Maybe you just need time to adjust?' she suggested. 'I mean, it's not like celibacy's something you've really _done_ before.'

'Oh my god, it has a name?!' Noelle wailed, her voice filled with horror. 'I don't _wanna_ try it. It sounds like it sucks!'

'It's not so bad.' Samaire volunteered quietly, her gaze drifting automatically to the bleachers, where a dark skinned boy was strumming away on his guitar and occasionally jotting things down on a notepad in front of him.

'Uh oh!' Michaela said when Sammy still hadn't looked away a few seconds later. 'She's gone again.'

'Earth to Evans!' Attie announced, waving her hand in front of Samaire's face. 'Mercurino's a fox and everything,' she explained, 'but it's a little pointless _staring_ at the guy when you could just go over and talk to him.'

Sammy scoffed and fingered her plait again. 'I know I could.' she protested. 'We've already talked a couple times, you know, when I was dating Quentin.' Samaire supplied. 'I just… he seems so out of my league.' she sighed. 'I'd probably just end up babbling in Na'vi or busting out an impression or something else equally humiliating.' Samaire shook her head, her plait flipping off her shoulder and along her back.

'Maybe he'd like that?' Michaela suggested hopefully, but Sammy disagreed.

'Quentin said that stuff was lame and I shouldn't do it.' she told her friends, leaning down to retrieve the football from the ground. 'He said guys didn't want to hear that stuff.'

Noelle scoffed and looked disgusted.

'What he meant was that _he_ didn't want to hear that stuff.' she informed her friend. 'And while I actually kinda like Quentin, even _I_ know that he can be a stuck up asshole sometimes.'

Samaire shrugged, 'He's ok.'

Attie shook her head before clapping her hands and holding them out to catch the football Samaire was holding. Sammy tossed it lightly, and Attie caught it easily, pausing with the ball between her hands to exchange a secret look with the others while Samaire was still watching Mercurino.

'You just need an opening to go talk to the guy.' Michaela offered, backing up slightly and Noelle nodded.

'Dudes are pretty simple creatures.' she announced, 'just stand in front of him for a while and pretty soon he's going to want you as bad as you want him.'

Samaire scoffed and reluctantly peeled her eyes away from the bleachers to turn and face her friends. 'That seems like pretty flawed…'

'NOW!' Noelle yelled, and Attie released the football, lobbing directly towards where Mercurino was sitting on the bench.

'ATTIE!'

Samaire turned around in a circle, desperately looking for somewhere to hide on the open field, but there was nowhere. It didn't help that Michaela shoved her forward towards Merc before rapidly taking off in the opposite direction pushing Attie.

'Y'all are terrible people!' Sammy called after them, her cheeks bursting into flames when she turned around again and found Merc holding the football and staring at her.

'Shiiiiiiiiit.' she muttered under her breath, and briefly debated running away before squaring her shoulders and trudging over to the bleachers.

'You… _dropped…_ this.' Merc offered as soon as Samaire was in earshot, holding the leather ball out in front of him with a wry quirk of his eyebrow. 'You know, you _could_ just have come over and said hello.'

'I know.' Samaire admitted, lifting one denim-clad leg to straddle the seat below Merc. 'But this just seemed to have more pizzaz.'

'Pizzaz?' Merc repeated, his voice straining as he fought the laughter that threatened to bubble up.

'Pizzaz.' Samaire nodded seriously. 'How are you anyway?'

Merc shrugged and set his guitar down on the bench in front of him. 'I'm ok.' he shrugged. 'I have this gig my mom asked me to do for her work friends coming up, and she keeps changing the set list.' he admitted with a slight quirk of his lips. 'Which is only a _little bit_ annoying, considering I still have work, plus maintaining my GPA. I think she'd hit me with a shoe if it dropped below 3.8.' he finished thoughtfully.

Samaire let out a low whistle and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. '3.8 is your bottom?' she asked, impressed. 'I'd be walking on air if I could get a top of 3.5.'

'You could.' Merc insisted looking intently at Samaire until she looked up at him again. 'We both know you're smarter than people give you credit for. You could totally do it.'

Samaire shrugged and picked a blade of grass off the top of her Converse. 'Nah, I know I'm not the smartest.' she admitted resolutely. 'What with the dyslexia and the short attention span I don't stand much of a chance for academic brilliance.'

'That's not even true.' Merc interrupted firmly. 'I think you just got told you _couldn't_ by people too lazy to figure out how you _could_.' he thought for a second, his eyes on the guitar in front of him while he mentally calculated.

'You ever think of getting a tutor?'

Samaire laughed uncomfortably and traced her long fingers along the white plastic in front of her. 'I… we can't exactly afford a tutor right now.' she admitted quietly. 'I had one in my old school, but that was before…'

'Right.' Merc nodded sagely and thought again.

'Ok…' he began slowly, clearly still mulling something over in his head. 'Ok, how about we do a kind of… skill exchange.' he suggested, his brown eyes intent on Samaire's as she took in the suggestion.

'A skill exchange?' she repeated, not entirely sure what that meant.

'Yeah!' Mercurino nodded, warming to the idea. 'I used to do it with Kirst when we were kids.' he explained. 'Like, I'd teach _you_ something, and you'd teach _me_ something.'

A smile crept onto Samaire's lips as she considered. If she didn't know better, it almost sounded like Merc was finding excuses to spend more time with her. She smiled secretly to herself and then bit her lip as she nodded.

'Ok.' she agreed coolly. 'Sounds good. You tutor me, and I'll teach you something you don't already know how to do.'

'Exactly!' Merc leaned back, his smile wide as he nodded. 'This actually works out perfectly for me.' he admitted after a brief pause. 'Because I'm getting creamed in Schuester's class.'

'Spanish?' Samaire asked curiously and Merc nodded. Looking around surreptitiously, he leaned forward and whispered. 'I got 42 percent in my last test.'

'Forty two percent!' Samaire repeated loudly, only to be quickly shushed.

'Don't yell it out!' he admonished, looking around quickly to see if anyone else had heard. 'I've only managed to keep it from my momma by the grace of God.'

'Sorry,' Samaire apologised, shaking her head in wonder. 'I just can't quite believe you're actually _bad_ at something.'

'I'm bad at a lot of stuff.' Merc dismissed easily. 'I'll tutor you in… whatever you need tutoring in.'

'English, History and World Civ.' Samaire supplied darkly and Merc nodded.

'In those then,' he agreed, 'if you tutor me in Spanish.' He offered her a large, guitar-calloused hand and beamed when Samaire shook it.

'Deal.'

Their eyes caught for a moment, and Sammy caught her lip between her teeth before Merc pulled his hand away and cleared his throat.

'Cool.' he announced, his voice sounding a little wobbly. 'Then it's a deal.'

The bell rang, signalling the end of the period, and Mercurino gathered up his stuff before following Samaire down the bleachers.

'Ok, riddle me this, Batman.' Samaire volunteered as the two of them made their way across the football field. 'Why do you need me to tutor you in Spanish when Santiago is, like, one of your best friends? He's fluent in Spanish, right?'

Merc scoffed and adjusted his guitar strap on his back. 'Didn't you date Santiago?' he queried, his voice laced with laughter. 'When have you ever known that guy to do anything out of the pure kindness of his heart?'

'Ok, _maybe_ you have a point.' Samaire admitted, laughing as Merc held the door into the school open for her.

'I _know_ I do.' Merc sassed, laughing when Samaire gave him a playful shove towards a bank of lockers. 'Besides,' he added, adopting an accent that could maybe be considered a Humphrey Bogart impression… If Bogart was German… and you'd never actually heard him speak before.

'Sammy, I think this could be the beginning of a be-yootiful friendship.'

Samaire stared at Merc in shock, her mouth hanging open while her green eyes blinked rapidly for a moment.

'What,' she demanded after several seconds had passed. 'Was _that_?'

Merc shifted uncomfortably, his cheeks heating up as he clutched his notepad closer to his chest. 'Shut _up_!'

'Was that… was that meant to be a Bogart impression?' Samaire teased incredulously, her face breaking into a grin as Merc looked bashful.

'Ok, wow!' she stopped in the hallway and Merc had already gone a few steps before he realised and turned back to face her. 'I'm sorry!' Samaire apologised, unable to contain her laughter as Mercurino shrugged and joined in. 'That was just… that was the actual worst.'

' _Shut_ _up_!' Merc said again, laughing as he swatted playfully at Samaire's shoulder.

'I think maybe I should tutor you in impressions too.' Samaire suggested as they started walking again, her face still lit up by a wide smile. 'I can see we'd have to go back to the basics though.'

'Yeah, _whatever_.' Merc allowed, 'I'm pretty sure my impressions are almost as good as your Robot.' He grinned when Samaire mocked outrage and poked him in the side in protest. Exchanging banter with Samaire was actually more fun than Mercurino had had in a while. 'I gotta go.' he told the blonde girl apologetically. 'Kirst threatened to burn all my baseball caps if I'm late meeting her again.' he rolled his eyes, 'As if she's going to do anything other than gush about that Blanche girl anyway.' Merc shrugged and touched Samaire's shoulder lightly as he turned to go down a different hallway. 'I'll call you!'

'Sure!'

Samaire waited until Merc had turned a corner before she let out a little squeal of delight and burst into an impromptu celebratory dance in the middle of the empty hallway.

She was going to be spending regular time alone with Mercurino! Samaire fished in her pocket for her cell phone and excitedly shot off a text to her friends, her grin widening when it buzzed a few seconds later with a reply from Michaela.

'Mersam is so on!' she'd written. 'Double dates with me and Tim soon!'

* * *

A/N I just adore each and every single one of these little weirdos and their friendships, you guys. If another idea came to me where I could use them again, I totally would. Don't get me wrong, I love the regular team too, but there's something about these kids...


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